Sinners and Saints
by Shadoobie
Summary: Saints can be corrupted, and Sinners can be saved, but who will be redeemed while others are condemned? Aizen began somewhere and now Soul Society will bear the burdens of a breed of Arrancar more fierce and powerful; Many Pairings, COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter One**

_"Midway along the journey of our life I woke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off from the straight path." ~The Inferno: Canto One_

The grand throne room at Las Noches had been empty for some time now, the stone seat of all Hueco Mundo barren and fractured with age. Its vacant, cavernous halls were no better, veils of dust fluttering about as pixies of filth in scattered rays of light that struggled and tried through cracks and crevices. All Hollows and Arrancar had abandoned the now desolate palace, leaving it in peace with its gradual decay. Nothing moved about the skeletal remains of the once mighty fortress, and hadn't in the last two years; not since King Barigan, during the time when Lord Aizen, raised his brows towards Soul Society. What was once the hub of anarchy was now little more than a tomb of yesteryear.

But, as it often is with any tomb holding remains of value, it didn't linger in its stillness for much longer.

Out of the shadows of the mighty columns that lined the hall came a host of figures. Nine to be particular. From behind one stepped out a tall, feminine figure. A slender, big breasted and beautiful woman. Her long, emerald hued hair was uplifted into a tail, two grand tresses of it left loose to frame her face. Only a portion of her visage could be seen as the left side was held in a perpetual frown in the form of a mask fragment, one of the only remnants from her time as a Hollow. Behind her was a kneeling figure, her ever faithful Fraccion. The remnants of his mask nearly covered the entirety of his face, and he rarely ever spoke; he only obeyed.

From behind another towering stone came another Arrancar, this one was stout, dark skinned and firm faced. His eyes were like pitch and marked beneath with a dark blue band of a cosmetic that only intensified his already disheartening gaze. His long raven hair had been gathered in such a way that the long strands only covered the crown of his head and descended down the back, all the rest was cleanly shaven. His beard, all of which was on the very tip of his chin, had been braided and laced with a golden ribbon, in the way of the kings of the Nile. The remains of his mask framed his jaw and chin, and had been plated with gold. This Arrancar had his own Fraccion, one that was never too far behind. He was a lithe, seemingly tiny thing, looking to be made of little more than skin and soft tissue. It was as if he could fit into any space, no matter how small. His mask fragment had become a bone ring around his neck. Very plain. Unlike his master, he was completely bald, but that appeared to be the only difference between them other than size.

The third Arrancar appeared, making it clear that he was indeed the largest of them. His body was thick and heavy with muscles. His shoulders were broad and his limbs like the bases of trees, they were so massive. A thick mane of sleek auburn hair covered his head and his face, this combined with his solid features making him appear lion-like. His eyes were brass in color, almost piercing. Like the scythe-like limbs of a mantis his mask fragment came from his brow and around his eyes, hooking over his cheeks and coming to points on either side of his mouth. A sharpened plate of bone jutted back over the deep part in his mane. Four Fraccion groveled behind him, their foreheads almost to the floor in humility. Each of them had a name, unlike the others in the chamber with them. They could have easily been siblings, one a twin of the next. From left to right they were called Caina, Antenora, Ptolomaea, and Judecca. Each of them all had stark, white hair. The only way to tell them apart was the color of their hauntingly similar eyes; each of them was a progressively darker, deeper shade of icy blue. And they did not speak, their mask fragments having formed to keep their jaws shut, making only a false facade of a mouth over them.

One odd thing about the three of them, despite being as impressive as they were, none of them had a number. Their clothing was clearly of Espada rank and privilege, but no tattoo to distinguish one from the other in skill and power.

"I must say I was expecting something a little more...clean." The woman sighed, her head tilted upward to look down her nose at the throne room.

"I expected something bigger," the dark skinned one sniffed.

"You both expect far too much." the bearded one growled. "You're missing the big picture...we own the throne." he grinned widely beneath the thick tresses of hair on his face.

"On the contrary," the woman but the tip of her finger against her chin, tapping the grimace of her mask. "We own nothing yet. There's still so much that needs to be done."

"True." the largest one nodded, and then turned, facing his still prostrate Fraccion. "Go, the lot of you, out into the wastes. Find what you can of our brothers and sister and come back to me."

The four each nodded their head in sequence and then disappeared with a loud ripple of air. Their master grinned again, pleased. He turned back to the chamber, his eyes narrow on the throne. He couldn't help himself, he crossed the dusty floor and sat in the stone chair. He loved the roughness of its many cracks and broken edges against his toughened skin. The chill of the pale marble sent a pleasant spark up his back. Yes, he could definitely get used to this. And he would.

The woman soon followed, her Fraccion creeping closely behind. She came to the foot of the throne and snapped her fingers. Her Fraccion knelt again, his face pressed to the floor with his elbows and legs supporting him. His master took a seat atop his back, like he were but furniture, beginning to pet his back swept azure hair as if in thought.

"Why them, Ciego?" She sighed again. "Why must we bother with those ugly tramps?"

"Insurance, I suppose." he purred, letting his head rest against his large hand. "If they will not serve me-,"

"_Us_," the third Arrancar corrected firmly, stepping up to the throne.

"Us," he laughed. "Then I wish them to be done away with. I refuse to tolerate any trouble from them."

"Surely we could handle them, couldn't we, Azar?" she looked to her gilded counterpart.

"Yes. What trouble could they be, so little more than beasts as they are?"

"Even beasts deserve to be treated with an air of caution." Ciego blinked, his brow furrowing.

She turned her head, tilting it to the side as if to promote a look of innocence.

"Valia, go with Azar and search the palace."

"For what?" she lifted a self-centered eyebrow.

"Anything. I wish to know where it is exactly that we stand."

Azar smiled, petting his beard gently. "Surely there must be some orphaned wealth lying about this place." and he shortly after left the throne room with his Fraccion.

"Are you not going with him?" Ciego asked.

"In a moment, I am comfortable." she grinned, still petting her servant's head.

Ciego shook his head. A moment after he let his eyes begin to wander across her body. She was quite beautiful. The front of her dress split open at the chest, the Hollow opening settled just between her breasts. He noticed the span of a naked thigh peeking out of the open slit going down the outer edge of the gown. His eyes caught her silvery ones.

"Why do you look at me so?" she smiled like a content cat.

He lifted his head. "Come here,"

Valia left her Fraccion as he was there on the floor, standing and allowing the swell of her hips to swish back and forth just right as she came beside him.

"Sit," he gestured to his lap. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer when she teasingly only settled on one of his thighs. His fingers found the tie in her hair and pulled it loose. "Much better." His arms squeezed her about the waist, pressing her body against his. She flinched when she felt his mouth on the cusp of the void in her chest.

"Why Ciego?" she giggled. "Have you nothing better to do?"

"What could be better than getting what I want while giving you what you want at the same time?" he growled, pulling the lapels of her dress apart. "Seems productive. Now hush, woman."

There was something to be said about having sex on a king's throne. Ciego found it insanely erotic. He felt the swelling pride of total domination building in his chest as well as his burning loins. As Valia steadily ground her hips into him, riding him, he would glance down at the still prostrate Fraccion. His mind entertained the fantasy that one day all of Hueco Mundo would be bowing before his throne. Yes, _his_ throne. Damn, that sounded so good.

"Tell me," he growled, his hands still clutching her hips, pushing and pulling them. "How would you fancy being my queen?"

She laughed throatily. "What a fool you take me for. You, share such power? Put that deceitful mouth of yours to better use." she took a tight handful of his lush hair and forced his face between her breasts. He bit down on the edge of the void, forcing her back to bow forward.

When they had finished Ciego bid her leave. She did so without protest, knowing he preferred to be alone after a fuck like that. Her Fraccion followed as always, leaving the largest Arrancar to his desired solitude. He slowly strolled about the chamber, his mind wandering. Valia had been right, there was still so much to do. Where to begin? Well, he considered, once the quadruplets had returned he would be able to do more.

_(II)_

The side streets and walkways were quiet and clear in Karakura around this time of day. It was that transitional period between children coming home from school, mother and father coming from work, and the night owls making way into the inner city to their usual haunts.

Inoue Orihime took the long way home, paying little or no attention to fellow pedestrians and vehicles blowing their horns as they passed. She seemed distant from herself, but managed to maintain enough awareness not to wander into the street. Her school books weighed her down at the shoulder, making her feet seem to drag that much more. This manner had been following her home for quite some time now. In fact, she hadn't been quite the same since her rescue from Hueco Mundo some...two years ago. Yes, about that long ago; at least it felt that long. She would think about it from time to time, trying to convince herself it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, but it still left her disturbed. Somewhere, deep down in her heart of hearts, it had changed her.

The sky had begun to bleed out its color and become darkened with the first few flickers of starlight. Orihime rounded the corner onto her street, now only perhaps two blocks away from home. She paused a moment went she felt something brush her leg, looking down to see a little black phantom pittering around her ankles. It meowed, looking up at her with bright blue eyes. Orihime nearly said "Yoruichi", but stopped herself when she noticed half of the cat's face was white. It was black otherwise, leaving the right side the only place off colored.

Her once unreadable expression softened and she gave a tiny smile. She crouched down.

"Are you alone, little one?"

It meowed and folded its ears down. She rubbed its chin, its whiskers tilting forward. It purred and licked its nose. Orihime couldn't help herself, and allowed the stray to follow her home.

She fished through her backpack for her house keys, the cat waiting patiently on the mat in front of the door. She found them, negotiating them into the lock until she was able to get inside. As usual she removed her shoes just inside and put on her favorite fluffy slippers before stepping onto the varnished wood floor. It was dark inside the house.

"I suppose you're hungry, aren't you?" she asked the cat, who was right behind her, meowing eagerly. She turned into the kitchen, reaching for the light switch and flipping it.

"_Surprise_!"

Orihime jumped with a high squeak, putting a calming hand over the middle of her chest and smiling. Gathered in the kitchen were Ichigo, Rukia, Uryu, Kisuke Urahara, and Yoruichi. They must have remembered what day it was, despite how Orihime seemed to have forgotten. They had made dinner, and a cake with the proper number of candles on it to coincide with her age. For the moment, the cat was nowhere to be seen. Probably startled by the all the noise. She embraced each of them in turn, showing her gratitude.

"Happy birthday, Hime-chan," Urahara took off his hat, holding it as he circled his arms around the girl.

"Thank you so much, Urahara-san, everyone. I'm glad you came." she seemed genuinely glad to see them, though perhaps they had expected a much more enthusiastic reaction. "Please, make yourselves at home."

"Hope you don't mind, I brought some sake." Yoruichi made a tall bottle seemingly appear out of thin air. "I know most of you aren't old enough, but I am." she laughed.

That black cat of a woman would never change, Orihime grinned and shook her head.

Everyone took their pick of the large spread. It seemed plain enough, but knowing Orihime's sometimes exotic if not just plain crazy tastes, Urahara had an array of strange sauces and toppings made available. The shopkeeper couldn't keep back a wide grin when he saw the birthday girl smother her sushi and pork with wasabi and chocolate sauce, topped with hot peppers and garlic.

The party moved to the living room to watch movies Ichigo had rented for the evening. Most of them were comedies. He took a leap of faith on a foreign film titled "_Spaceballs_", which he was quite relieved to see everyone receive so well. Yoruichi laughed so hard she nearly curled over the arm of the chair to throw up. Even Uryu found it in his normally placid self to laugh, his face reddening and tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

After the movies, it was decided that now would be the time for gift giving, and they gathered in kitchen once again.

"Mine's in the car, I'll be back." Uryu adjusted his glasses as he stepped over several bodies in the floor in front of the TV.

"Forgive me, princess, but I must be off." Urahara kissed her forehead in a fatherly fashion before handing her a card in an envelope and a small box wrapped in silver paper. "Come now, Yoruichi." he reached out and took his companion's arm.

"Here you are, kiddo," she dropped a plastic baggy the size of a fist into Orihime's hand. "Jelly beans from America. Lot's of weird flavors. I thought you'd get a-_hic_-out of them." and then she started giggling like a fool. Urahara helped her out the door, waving goodbye to everyone as he went.

"I can't stay much longer, either." Rukia sighed. "I'm due back in the morning."

"How are things in Soul Society these days?" Orihime tried to sound genuinely interested. She was, but seemed to have trouble expressing that.

"Nothing too much out of the ordinary, except," she paused. Uryu had walked in just in time to hear the half-answer. He and Ichigo both seemed eager for the rest. "Things seem a bit busy recently. Or tense...I'm not really sure."

"Kuchiki Taichou hasn't mentioned anything?" Orihime asked.

"He's been more quiet than usual." Rukia's eyebrows lifted to emphasis the oddity this fact posed. "But, then again, Nii-san tends to have his moments."

"Yeah, if moments constitute years at a time. I gotta ask, Rukia, does Byakuya PMS?" Ichigo sniffed

"Stop it," she scolded. "My brother is entitled to his moods. Be that as it may, I have my suspicions as well. In any case, I have yet to ask him about it. But once I have the opportunity I will."

"You think it may be serious?" Uryu adjusted his glasses again.

"I couldn't say."

"Well, we'll know when we know." Ichigo shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "Anyway, Orihime, Rukia and I went together and got you a gift card for that bakery on the corner you like. I know it isn't much but...I guess we just weren't sure what you'd like."

"Oh this is just fine. Between you and Yoruichi I'll be fat by my next birthday." she laughed. "Thank you."

"I made this for you, Orihime," Uryu handed her a box that looked to be the size and thickness of an encyclopedia, but almost weightless. It was tied with a shimmering opalescent ribbon, which she slowly pulled apart. "I hope you like it."

At first she didn't know what to make of the stuffed toy that lay in the box. It was no bigger than Kon. It resembled a western gargoyle, only not nearly as hideous and much softer than the stone they were often carved from. She set the box on the counter and took the plushie from it, holding it in her hands. It had a long, spindly tail with a tuft of fur on the end. Its arms and legs were made with black fabric and tipped with tiny vinyl claws for each toe and finger. A thin triangle of black ventured from the shoulders to the toy's belly, a stark cloth dagger against its white skin. The eyes were what looked to be round emeralds, but were only glass dyed to look that way, and more black descended to the doll's soft chin. A pair of stubby vinyl horns peaked out from the mussed hair, and bat wings hung limply from its back.

"Th-thank you, Uryu-kun." she said smiling but unable to look away from the gift. "I love it." and she hugged him, her arms tight around his neck.

It was shortly thereafter that her visitors departed with a "goodnight" and a hug, leaving Orihime alone. She took a few moments to straighten up the kitchen before gathering her gifts and slipping back into the bedroom. She set them on the bedside table with the exception of the plush gargoyle, which she place almost reverently atop her pillow.

The cat suddenly appeared, pouncing on top of the bed with a loud meow.

"Oh there you are, I'm sorry little one," she looked down into those pretty blue eyes staring back at her. "I have yet to feed you."

She watched him circle the bed, creeping upward to sniff at the doll. The cat sat in front of it, staring intently. Then its head slowly tilted to the side, looking rather astonished.

"Isn't he cute?" Orihime gathered the cat into her arms and held him close to her chest as she went back to the kitchen to find something for him to eat. He would have to settle for a saucer of milk until she could go to the market tomorrow.

With the cat occupied Orihime gave a sigh and went back towards the bedroom, turning left instead of right. She took a quick shower, eager to get to bed. She would find the cat on the bed again when she came out in her bathrobe. She smiled at him as she changed, never noticing how intently the cat seemed to watch.

At last she turned out the light and slipped beneath the covers. As she shifted onto her back the cat came a crawled up her body, laying longways over her stomach, his fuzzy chin resting on one large breast.

"Aren't you the sweet one?" she cooed, rubbing his nose with the tip of a finger. He immediately began to purr.

Almost unconsciously Orihime searched for and found the plush toy in the dark, tucking it under arm. Sure, she was undoubtedly too old for such things, but something in her couldn't find that as a good enough reason to leave it alone. It was a soft little thing, but there was more to it than the comfort it brought.

Why had Uryu made it for her? Why did he make it to look the way it did? Surely he was aware how much it resembled...so why? She had never known Uryu to be a cruel person, so perhaps it was his way of offering some form of comfort. She couldn't decide why. Still...

She pulled the doll closer, feeling a sharp, familiar sting in her heart.

He had been deemed the enemy. At any time he could have been ordered to end her life and would have done so without a thought. And yet...why did she miss him so?

She woke the next morning as always, leaving for school about the same time, leaving Urahara's gift and card unopened. The cat found the top drawer of her dresser open and decided to sleep in it for the duration of the day.

_(III)_

Hueco Mundo had suddenly become so odd, and only in the last few days. The air just seemed different, out of place. Crazy, right? No, not so much. Those astute enough could easily tell. Still, all one had to do was watch, the Hollow were all acting strange. Some seemed to migrate towards the old palace, others avoided it like the plague. Then there was that strange red mist nearly engulfing the petrified forest to the south; it had suddenly appeared and had yet to dissipate.

The uneasy winds stirred the endless dunes, tossing the sand about and thus changing the desert's face for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Still, someone walked through them with purpose, as if he knew the way.

"The sun sucks." the hiss came from behind his ear, though there was nothing there to make it.

"Shut it." he grumbled. "I'm not even close to being in the mood to deal with you."

"What? All I'm saying is that giant, _burning_, galactic hemorrhoid up there is giving _me_ sun burn, and it's giving _you_ swamp ass."

"Then stay away from my ass."

"Stay away he says! I'd love to if I wasn't like it's freakin' next door neighbor."

The man shrugged heavily, rolling his eyes. "If I didn't need to walk I'd bury you right here and be done with it."

"You're not leaving me here in this giant litter box!" the hissing suddenly became screeching. "Fine, if you gotta do it, do it, just find me some women first."

"You know there are no women out here, unless you want to go south." he laughed.

"Hell no, I would like to keep my eyeballs right where they are!"

"Just a thought."

"Well stop it before you hurt yourself."

The Arrancar laughed again, adding a shake of his head to the gesture as the hissing silenced. His little friend was annoying at times, often intolerable, but it was better than being alone in this empty wasteland. His right hand, the palm covered in thick callouses, adjusted to better grip the large pommel of his sword, which acted as a support. His right leg was injured. Well, to be honest, it was gone...and had been replaced with the bony limb of another fallen Hollow. It was awkward and didn't bend in all the right places, creaking as dry bone sockets scraped against one another.

Aside from that handicap, this Arrancar was well assembled. He was pushing six feet tall, his shoulders broad but bony. His hair was mussy and red, his face rough with stubble. The scattered tresses about his forehead covered his number, a set of three sharp numbers rarely ever seen by anyone. The fragments of his mask curled back from his temples and over his ears, flat against the side of his head in an almost scythe-like shape. Three token studs of bone lined the hard ridge of bone on the outer rim of his eye sockets. A name? Many hadn't the courage to say it, others, those with perhaps no fear or no sense, called him Ranza.

As for the hissing, that was his false leg. A residual consciousness of its previous owner remained, eventually taking on a persona that fit with Ranza's release form. It was a slithering, leviathan of a thing with a bony, sharp featured face complete with a beak that gave birth to squirming tendrils of slimy flesh. Its bright, lidless eyes were golden and seemed to glow in the darkness, black orbs pocked the centers, sliding about when the serpent needed to see elsewhere. Ranza often referred to him as "Squiddy", though he hated it. However, despite that, he neglected to mention his real name.

"Seriously, this heat is killing me." Squiddy whined again.

"I heard you the first time. It won't be much longer until we reach the palace. Can you wait until then?"

"I suppose, though I still don't get why you wanna go there. You hate that place."

"Still..." he paused, his words forced as if through a tight jaw. "Got more important things to do."

"I know, I know. But who's to say the schmuck is still living after all that hoo-doo that went down...what was it...year before last? There were Shinigami every-damn-where."

"Oh, he's alive," Ranza sounded more than certain. "Bastard was too full of himself to die at the hands of Soul Reapers. But that's okay, I wouldn't want it any other way."

They continued quietly through the wastes, ever pressing closer to the old palace as night fell. And all the while Ranza's pulse would quicken in phases. Every limping step brought him closer to his desire, his vengeance.

They made camp, resting until dawn was to come. Solitary and pack minded Hollows wandered around them leaving them undisturbed throughout the night. Many were never seen during the day, leaving the majority of the Hollow populous as nocturnal creatures. But wasn't that, in all honesty, a given?

Dawn returned in all its scalding majesty, white washing the landscape as its light struck. Ranza was up once the light was on him, pushing himself onto half-steady legs until he could right his cane. Then he began walking again, now able to see the domes and lofty keeps of Las Noches. Upon his coming closer, he found something odd. He knew well the place was fairly empty, but he had expected to sense even the slightest flux of reiatsu. But there was nothing. There didn't seem to be a Hollow within miles of here. Not even some of the smallest Hollow, no bigger than a desert lizard, was hiding beneath sands near the old palace. This was strange. Even in the days of Aizen there were at least a few skeletal crows about.

But, as he drew near the gates, he stumbled, a palm pressed against his chest as he had to try and steady his breath.

"Wassa matter?" Squiddy chirped.

"Whoa, you didn't feel that?"

"...You didn't fart, did you?"

"No, damn it," he righted himself after a moment. "Someone's in there." his eye's narrowed on the open doorway, a gaping maw into darkness. If there was indeed someone within the palace walls, how on earth could they have hidden their reiatsu from, reiatsu that potent? His hand flexed tighter, unconsciously ready to draw his sword if needed.

It was dark and cool in the long stone hallways that still smelled of neglect and settled dust. His bone foot when _clack-kack_, _clack-kack_ against the floor, echoing. Thank God he wasn't trying to sneak in.

Then he felt it, a little shift and push of the air around him. The reiatsu in the palace fluxed once more. He blinked in that instant, finding himself no longer alone with Squiddy when they opened again. His eyes slid behind his narrowed lids from side to side, seemingly seeing double. Two tall, slender Arrancar with white hair and staggering blue eyes stood on either side of him, each baring a long, wickedly curved saber towards the intruder. He could sense two more behind him, their weapons drawn also.

Their reiatsu pulsed around him like a steady heartbeat, each of them in tune with one another.

"Holy shit, it's the children of the corn." Squiddy gurgled quietly.

"Shut it."

The spiritual energy fluxed again, harder this time. The shift of power gripped his chest again, pressing his ribs inward on his lungs slightly. He had expected more to appear by way of sonido, but there were footsteps, much to his surprise. Ranza watched a host of shapes appear from the darkness, stepping into the light the came through the tall archways that made up the passage. Five more Arrancar came to stand before him. They were familiar, and certainly not well liked.

"I thought I smelled salt." said the largest one, petting his beard. "Welcome back."

"Ciego," Ranza nodded. "Never thought I'd see you again any time soon."

"Likewise. What brings you here, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, I mind, but I suppose a reluctant word beats getting run through by the Quad Squad."

Ciego laughed, gesturing with one hand for his Fraccion to stand down. They lowered their blades but did not stray from their places. Ranza's eyes trained onto the blue-haired Fraccion that suddenly crouched beside his mistress, offering himself as a seat once again.

"I heard you were dead, Ranza dear."

"Funny, I heard you'd joined a convent. Guess that wasn't true either." the squid interjected. Ranza's heart fluttered when he noticed the slightest green flush near the edges of Valia's face as it twisted with bubbling anger, almost the same color as her hair. Odd.

"So why did you come?" Azar asked.

"I'm looking for someone. Last I heard he was here."

"Who?" Ciego seemed genuinely curious.

"Nnoitra Jiruga. Do you know where he might be?"

Azar chuckled. "Long gone, I would say."

Ranza felt his body tighten. "What?"

"He's dead, boy." Ciego growled. "Slain by the Shinigami no doubt. I'm sure if you dig in the right place you'll find what remains of him."

Ranza's brow tightened fiercely, darkness coming over his face. "Why should I believe you?"

"We have nothing to gain from lying to you, Ranza dear." Valia sighed.

"I could become trouble for you if I chose."

"BAH!" Ciego laughed. "You? You're number betrays you. I would crush you with my very breath."

"Don't brush much, huh?" Squiddy whispered, snickering.

"Limp away, child." Azar breathed. "There is nothing here but death for you."

"And that, with a nickle, bothers me less than a wild wolverine in my underwear." Ranza shook his head, his teeth clenched together. "To hell with the lot of you." and he turned on his bone heel, making his way to leave.

"Don't be a stranger, Ranza dear," Valia waived.

"Don't be a slut, slut." Squiddy screeched.

_Took the words right out of my mouth._ Ranza shook his head, half surprised that he was allowed to leave the palace.

So Nnoitra was dead? He had heard the rumors all over Hueco Mundo, but now he knew they were true. Ranza was certainly unhappy, no, downright pissed to hear of this. He wanted to kill the son of a bitch himself. Now he would have to settle, and boy did he hate to settle, with the next best thing. He needed to find the man who killed Nnoitra, and that meant going to Soul Society.

"You sure about this, _el capitan_?"

"As a heart attack." he limped along at a somewhat hurried pace.

"Then you can leave my bony ass right here because I ain't goin'!"

"The hell you are. If I'm going to nail this butch fuck I'm going to need to your help."

"You _need_ to get your freakin' head checked! Ranza, would you listen? Going to Soul Society is like...like...eighth level Mario Brothers!"

"Just shut up and walk."

_(IV)_

Urahara pulled back the screen and leaned into the room. He grinned.

"Good to see you awake. How do you feel now?"

"Hmm," the man groaned, raking his scalp with his fingers. "Still...feel funny."

"I figured. It'll pass after you've been in that body for a while longer."

The dark haired man nodded and then slowly lifted his heavy seeming head to look at Urahara. "Did you need something?"

"Actually I would like to show you something. If you feel up to moving about a little."

"Yeah, sure, okay." he yawned, his mouth wide. "Just a moment."

"I'll wait outside."

Once Urahara was out of sight the man moved to get out of bed. His joints hurt, his muscles were stiff as boards, but he couldn't stand to lay down anymore. His shoulder length, dark brown hair was in tangles and he had to piss like a race horse. That was a sensation he hadn't felt in a while. He managed out of the futon that was spread across the floor, cursing these people for their stranger than fiction sleeping customs. He found his way to the bathroom, first giving his undivided to the toilet. Once that was taken care of he set about making himself the least bit acceptable. He tamed his hair and then found a razor for his face, leaving only the slightest bit of stubble on his chin, just how he remembered himself. He then found a simple robe in a cabinet beside the tub to dress in.

Urahara raised his head when the door slid back. "Looking sharp, bud. Let's go downstairs."

"Okay," he replied somewhat reluctantly before following the shopkeeper. They passed quickly through the shop, the man catching a glimpse of the dark skinned woman dealing with a customer near the counter. She seemed to be doing all she could to keep the patron's attention completely on her and not the two men who made for the door at the rear of the room. But that couldn't have been all that hard, considering the customer was an older man and she was so damn hot.

Urahara lead him to the basement. A shiver went up his back; he recalled waking here some few days before, shaking and garbling nonsense in his confusion. He could still just recall flinching at the bright light and choking on the first few breaths. He shook his head when he reached the foot of the stairs.

Urahara's basement was well kept and organized. An assortment of crates lined the walls alongside the shelves near filled with sealed bottles filled with still fermenting sake. In the middle, among all of that, was a table. It looked like a slab at the morgue. Urahara switched on the light hanging from the ceiling, drowning out the strange, almost phantom aquamarine glow that had been filling the space.

And there was the table, currently occupied. By a gigai, not a corpse.

"What was it you wanted me to see?" the man asked. His gaze shifted upward from the body. "What is that?"

Kisuke grinned, stepping towards the table and a small, spherical gem that shimmered and seemed to float in mid air above it's tiny pedestal. "It helped me put you in that body. Not entirely sure how, but it did. And it's about to do it again." He laughed at the puzzlement the man showed. "You'll see."

He looked back down at the body, realizing it wasn't all that strange looking after all. In fact it looked eerily familiar. It was like a memory tickling the back of his still fogged memory. It was a tall, somewhat stocky framed gigai, seeming fit for a man but it had large, supple breasts hidden beneath a sheet. The untamed blonde hair was a contrast to the soft face, a face still blank with a form of sleep.

The gem started pulsing, the color waxing and waning in time with each throb. It did this for several minutes, the cadence of the pulse increasing until finally there was a massive flux of reiatsu, and the color dimmed until it went out completely. The stone fell unceremoniously back into its cradle, quiet and dark.

"What just happened?"

"Wait," Urahara had an air about him similar to a kid watching a horror movie waiting to be scared into a laughing fit.

Both men watched the gigai, unconsciously refusing to breathe until something occurred.

It breathed.

A slow, deep, waking breath. Then the chest steadily rose and fell in the rhythm of life that was often considered normal.

Urahara stepped forward, leaning over the table. "Can you hear me?" he asked gently. He had learned from the first time this happened how sensitive their ears could be when they first wake.

After a moment the gigai nodded. A hand flexed beneath the sheet, eventually reaching up and rubbing the eyes. They blinked open, bright blue and curious.

"Try to sit up," Urahara encouraged.

The motion came slowly but smoothly, it made Kisuke think he'd crafted this gigai better than the last one.

She felt like she had woken up to the mother of all hangovers. The ground seemed to sway beneath her and her body was throbbing with a dull ache. She clutched the sheet close to her chest, aware of the fact that she was otherwise naked. She blinked again, the blur in her vision finally clearing.

"...the hell am I?"

She saw the blonde man with the hideous hat grinning like a cat. She had trouble decided right away whether or not that made her feel better or worse. She then turned her head to see the rest of the room, eventually noticing the other person in the room. She stared at him for a moment, seeming to ignore his stunned expression. Then her brows lifted.

"Coyote." she said. It sounded like she was relieved if not glad to see him.

Urahara snickered after a long moment. "Guess I'll leave you two be for a while." and he went up the stairs to the shop.

Author's note: slow, yes. I'm still working on it. We'll get somewhere, just like before. In any case, I'm getting there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Two**

"_The day was fading...and I, one man alone, was making ready to endure the battle of the journey, and of the pity it involved, which my memory unerring shall now retrace." ~The Inferno: Canto Two, verses 3-6_

"It's begun to glow again." Urahara mentioned in passing as he sipped his tea.

Yoruichi lifted her gaze from the magazine she was reading, looking across the table. "Hmm?"

"The gem is glowing again."

"You still haven't figured out what the hell that thing is, have you?"

"Afraid not," he shook his head. "One would think I would have at least come by it by accident."

"So what color is it this time?" she asked, having resumed reading.

"It's a very brilliant green. Quite captivating really."

"When did this start?"

"Not an hour after Hime-chan visited the day before yesterday."

"Really?" Yoruichi lifted an eyebrow to a sharp angle. "Funny. You mention this to our friends upstairs?"

"Not yet, maybe later today." he swallowed the last of his tea. "At least they seem to be adjusting."

"You found a way to hide their reiatsu yet?" she closed the magazine and laid it across her thigh.

"Getting there. Until then they'll be fine if the stay here for the time being."

"Carrot top doesn't know about this, does he?"

"Hell no." Urahara laughed. "Until I figure this trinket out I can only pray that Shinigami don't come anywhere near here."

"I see; don't tell doofus, got it." Yoruichi grinned.

There was a strain of quiet and then, "I've had the gem since...damn, since I made the hogyoku. That was forever ago, and it's only recently begun to do this. Beats the hell out of me." he took off his hat and scratched his head. He let his mind wander back to his success with the hogyoku, remembered how proud he was of himself, then he recalled the curiosity of noticing the second gem as it rolled across the floor, appearing to come from nowhere. Of course he had kept it, though he didn't know what it was capable of at the time as now. He'd left it alone up until now. It hadn't done anything over the past century, so why would he bother with it?

Still, from what he could tell so far it was able to collect and compound spiritual energy of different frequencies. So far it had managed this two times, working on a third. Since its creation Urahara was aware that it could do _something_, just wasn't certain of what. Now he was starting to figure it out, but it was too little and not fast enough. He felt himself shudder slightly; he couldn't afford to have every Arrancar slain trying to crawl through that thing. It was a disaster looking for a place to happen.

He had to find a way to control the damn thing.

"Worried?" Yoruichi's voice broke him from his brooding.

"No, no, just a little concerned I think. Now that I've thought about I'm starting to realize how much a problem this could prove to be."

"Maybe you should just get rid of it?"

"I don't know if I can." he smirked and pushed his hat down on his head. "Besides, I'd prefer to keep it."

"Don't want anyone else to have it?"

"Naturally."

Yoruichi laughed softly, folding her arms behind her head as she laid flat on the floor. "You men and your toys."

"At least I take good care of my toys," he said knowingly. "Don't I?"

"Okay, you got me, you're right." she rolled her head back and forth. "Could it be another Arrancar trying to come through?"

Urahara shrugged. "I would suppose so."

"Who, do you think?"

"There's no telling." he would have said more but he heard the bell in the shop ring. Without another word he went to tend to the customer.

_(--)_

It was quiet upstairs, had been for a while.

Starrk sat with his legs crossed at the foot of the bathroom doorway, listening unconsciously to the small noises coming from the other side of the door. Halibel had gone in there perhaps an hour ago; the water started running and didn't stop for several minutes. He could only assume she was bathing, but it had been so quiet. Was she asleep? She had seemed a little sideways when she woke this morning.

Starrk chanced to push the screen door aside just a wee bit, peering through the small opening. There was the tub and over ether side dangled an arm and a leg. The rest of her was out of sight with the exception of the top of her head. He listened carefully, hearing a slow inhale followed by an equally leisured exhale covered by the _pop-pop-pop_ of small bubbles.

"Tia, you okay?"

Her hand jerked in his direction, but the bubbles continued and there was no more motion. She was fine, he smirked and quietly closed the door. She had the right idea; they were both still trying to get used to all this, and sometimes sleep was the best medicine. At least it always worked for him. Speaking of which, a nap sounded quite good...

Starrk snorted himself awake, having heard the door slide back. He blinked, his eyebrows arched and staying up there as he fought the urge to stare. He forced his gaze to the floor, trying to ignore the fact that he could still see her in the corner of his eyes.

Hallibel kicked the bed out of its roll and gathered the blankets around her naked form, laying against the wall with a contented sigh.

"Feel better?" He finally had the courage to look up. She still looked tired, but if his memory served him right, she always looked like that.

She nodded quietly. Then, "Who is that man?"

Starrk had to think a moment, his mind having been off elsewhere when she spoke. "Introduced himself to me as Urahara, so I guess that's what he wants us to call him."

"What of those who keep the place while he's away?"

"I haven't asked. Although I think it best to just keep away from them; that little girl's tougher than she looks. Kind of scary really."

She nodded again, pausing. "What are we doing here?"

Starrk chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. "Can't say I know. From what I can remember it just sort of...happened." he described, lifting his shoulders in uncertainty. "What about you?"

"That sounds very familiar. I suppose it is the same with me. I want to believe I had a faint sensation of dreaming, but that is the extent of it. Still..."

"What is it?"

"I sensed others. Wherever I was...there were others with me." she took a long breath. "I could feel them trying to reach me, speak with me, but I could not answer."

"Well, you've never been much the talkative type."

"Please, Coyote," she scolded with unseemly tenderness. "I'm being serious."

"Oh I know, I never said you weren't. Guess I'm just trying to lighten things up. You always look so down in the dumps."

"I take it, then, that nothing has changed?" she lifted an eyebrow at him.

Starrk laughed a little. "Not yet, but one can only guess how living here is bound to effect us."

"Indeed." there was a window just above her and she turned as if to peer through it. "What a curious world this is."

_(II)_

Ranza was making his way south of the palace, and had been steady in his journey for the last few days. Hueco Mundo tended to stretch so far, days still remaining between him and his objective. After accepting the news of Nnoitra's death, he took it upon himself to find his killer and return the favor. However, there was a slight problem; undoubtedly the one he was looking for dwelled in the land of Shinigami, Seireitei, but he was incapable of traveling there quickly. With his leg having been severed, his ability to create garganta was stripped of him.

Now he would need someone who _could_ get him there, someone he could trust, but his friends were-simply described-too few and far between. In fact he could only think of one, and he would need to go south to find him.

"Since when was this considered a good idea?" Squiddy asked, his voice rank with sarcasm.

"Would you quit your whining? We're not even going into the forest so what's to worry about?"

"Are you kidding? Tell me you're kidding! There's _plenty_ to worry about!"

"Only two people live out there, you pussy."

"And one of them is enough to scare me! She'd rip out your pelvis and use it as a cup holder! Don't even get me started on what she'd do with the rest of us!"

"If we're lucky we won't have to stay long." Ranza shrugged. "Just shut your hole and keep walking."

"Anyone ever told you how much of a dick you are?"

"You."

"Fine, just checking."

And this went on without a hitch for four more days. Every chance available the squid would speak up and hiss his concerns. Ranza, of course, would do his best (or worst, you could say) to dissolve his trouble, the conversation usual ending with an exchange of vulgarities. Would you believe these two actually like each other?

It was near sunset of day four when the petrified forest of the southern reaches appeared on the horizon. Ranza thought it best to stop for the night, knowing good and well the forest was kind to _no one_. After dark it was just damn cruel.

As Ranza lay there in the sand, dwelling on the edge of sleep, he felt his false leg shaking.

"Would you chill out?" he groaned. "Damn it, you're going to give me shaken baby or something."

"Would you chill out if you were me? I'm a helpless leg for Pete's sake! I'm the other end of a stump! You know what happens to the other end of stumps? They get mutilated! She's gonna chew my ass to pulp!" the poor parasite was wigging the fuck out.

"Good grief." Ranza sat up, no longer able to stand it. He began pulling up handfuls of sand, making a hole big enough to stick his foot into. Then he filled the hole, more or less silencing the squid. But the shaking didn't stop. In the end he was able to block that out, allowing himself a few hours of sleep before dawn came.

Ranza had to focus to walk, Squiddy still refusing to be still. It was quite clear that he wanted to be anywhere but here. Upon the morning he could see the wood more clearly, finding it's borders skewed and blurred with a thick crimson mist, clouds of blood among stark white bones. Angry tendrils of the stuff climbed the trees, became like evanescent spiderwebs among the branches. He knew well not to draw too close lest he be doomed to madness. At least, that's what all the rumors said, and even the rumors weren't all that trustworthy, considering the originators of said rumors never actually made it back from this place. It was all shady hearsay.

Ranza thought it best to round the petrified forest, staying just out of the mist's reach as he looked for his friend.

"Largo," he called out. There was no echo, not even the slightest sound after. The empty air swallowed it whole. "Largo!"

"M-maybe she ate him."

"He didn't get eaten." Ranza rolled his eyes. "Largo, answer me!"

"What's that noise?" Squiddy made the false limb jerk to a stop.

Before he could scold the parasite, Ranza went still, listening to make sure his hitch-hiker wasn't just hearing things. After a moment, once the breeze had died, he _could_ just make out a strange grinding noise that seemed to come and go. It was a steady rhythm, the volume growing for a moment and then dying out. If his ears weren't fibbing, whatever the sound, it was coming from some distance behind him. Receiving no argument from the parasite for a change, Ranza turned and began to head in the opposing direction, the forest now at his back. Three dunes on he stopped, carefully stepping down into the little dip in the sand there.

Just as he thought the sound was that of someone snoring. In the little hole was a little body, one still and fast asleep. The little boy had dust and sand in spots all over his tattered clothes, suggesting he had been there for quite some time, which came as little surprise to Ranza. He knelt down, his knee in the sand as he leaned over the sleeping Arancar. He looked no more than perhaps ten years of age, but he was much, much older.

"Largo," Ranza reached out and touched the tiny shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. "Wake up, buddy."

Largo stirred, his nose twitching at the sand. One brilliant amber eye eased open, sliding towards the larger Arrancar. Largo blinked and then sat up, twisting around that he might look at his visitor. Now you could see his mask fragment, which covered the left side of his face, showing the remains of a fierce grimace and fangs.

Largo looked at him for a moment, his face wrinkled in deep study. He raised his small hand, sticking out a finger to poke Ranza's nose. Ranza didn't move, only blinking.

"You lose." the little boy said.

"What do you mean?" Ranza almost grinned.

"The staring contest, you blinked."

"Guess I did. Largo, I came to ask for your help."

"Oh yeah? With what?" In a way the little one looked interested, on the other he looked rather indifferent.

"I need you to open a garganta for me."

Largo whined a little. "Why can't you do it yourself?"

"I...I had an accident and now I can't do it anymore." Largo didn't know about the leg, and he didn't want to tell him just yet.

"I heard about that. Sucks to be you."

Well, never mind then.

"Yeah, it does, but I get along. So, you think you could lend me a hand?"

Largo started to draw circles in the sand with his finger. "Where are you going?"

"I need to get into the Seireitei."

Largo raised his head and his eyes widened. "What the hell for?"

Ranza took a breath, getting the words together. "The guy who took my leg took something else very important to me. I came back to find that someone else killed him before I did."

"I guess you're mad at the guy who got spoony-spada?" he asked.

"Yes, very mad." Ranza resisted the urge to laugh at Largo's word for Nnoitra. "I need to find him, and I've heard he lives in Soul Society."

After a moment Largo shook his head. "This doesn't sound like a good idea. How about you just stay here?"

"Can't do that, squirt. I gotta do this. Besides, I don't think 'here' is the safest place to be either." Ranza looked over his shoulder, still able to see some of the red mist coming form the forest. "What happened?"

"Something changed, I dunno what." Largo shook his head again. "She hasn't let me back into the forest for nearly two weeks now. The mist hurts my eyes so I stay away."

"She let you in?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "She likes me...or at least she did. What's going on, Ranza?"

"I'm not sure. But once I get back I'll help you out."

"No," the little one whined again. "Don't go, you'll die."

"I have to do this, Largo. If you ever decide to grow up you'll understand. So can you open the door for me?"

"Ummm, I guess so." Largo sighed after a moment. "Yeah."

Ranza stood up, pulling his little friend with him. They took the short walk back to where Ranza had been before the snoring, the forest coming closer once again.

What Largo had said about the forest was troubling him. Aside from the little Arrancar, there was only one other living in the forest. She never let anyone in, particularly men, but Largo must have been an exception. All that aside, it must have been a rather drastic change to make Largo move from the forest, as it took quite a bit to move him at all. What _was_ going on?

They topped the next dune and Ranza stopped, putting his hand on Largo to make his stop also.

"What's wrong?"

Ranza could see someone standing at the very edge of the wood, stock still like a statue.

"It's one of the quad squad." Squiddy whispered. "Looks like one of them."

Ranza squinted to see better and found that the parasite was indeed right. From this distance he couldn't tell which it was, only that it was one of the quadruplets he had met some days ago. What was he doing there? The question only gained weight when the fair-haired Fraccion stepped unyielding into the red mist, disappearing.

"Nothing, kid, just," Ranza couldn't help but keep looking. "Open the door, please."

Within a few minutes, a disgruntled little Arrancar did as Ranza asked, the barrier between worlds cracking open to let them through.

_(III)_

Orihime woke as slowly as she could get away with. The alarm clock was screaming full blast at her from the side table. She reached out from beneath the thick blankets to blindly slap it into silence. Sure, she needed to get up if she were to get to school on time, but she really didn't feel up to it today. The bed seemed too inviting, the pillows too soft, the plush of the cat and the half squished doll just too good to leave. Still, in the end she gave a heavy sigh, pushing the blankets away. The cat remained, crawling into the tiny imprint in the mattress, wanting to grab the warmth left behind while it was still there. On his back with his paws in the air he stretched and purred.

She was quick to ready herself, not finding any real reason to delay. Besides, finals were this Friday and today was Thursday. It was the last day she had to study, and she knew she would need to use every hour of it if she wanted to graduate. Orihime nearly tripped over the cat as he waited for her outside the bathroom door. He meowed and whined and chirped, making her realize that she had left her top drawer closed. On her way to get her books she pulled it open. He jumped right up and dove into the clothing, which just so happened to be her underwear. This odd habit practically demanded that she call him Hadagi. She would leave a bowl of food and water on the kitchen floor as she walked out the door, locking it behind her before beginning down the street.

The walk was the same as any other, getting her to school just before the bell rang. She went right to class, seeming to all but ignore the people she normally stopped to chat with. All Tatsuki got was a halfhearted "hello". She sat down at her desk, got out the book she needed and began reading, well, if you could call it that.

Every day seemed to go by in a bit of a haze. She couldn't find nearly enough focus to do the things she needed to, much less any enthusiasm to do what she wanted. Orihime felt something was missing, and it was leaving her with a very empty, listless feeling. Days blended together. Maybe it was the stress? Nah, it wasn't that easy, that simple.

"Inoue?"

She didn't hear her name, she was too busy trying to work her way around this accursed algebra.

"Inoue?"

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up, not seeming startled. "Kurosaki-kun? Yes, what is it?" she tried a smiled.

"I asked if I could have lunch with you. Is that okay?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

Ichigo had slid his desk almost half way across the room away from his study group to sit with her. His box lunch was sitting atop his literature textbook. "How are you?"

"I's fine, I suppose."

"Where's your lunch?" he asked, his chopsticks in his hand.

"Huh? Oh, I suppose I forgot it at home."

"You want some of mine? I've got plenty," he offered, beginning to fish through his lunch for something she would want.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll be alright. I appreciate it, though."

"If you insist." He took a large bite. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she nodded, sighing. "I guess finals are just getting to me."

"What, you need help with something?"

"Just the usual, you know." Orihime laughed. "Numbers were never my strong suit."

"Mine either." Ichigo swallowed. "You sure you don't want a bite?"

"Yes, I am," she smiled at him.

"Okay. Hey, not meaning to be nosy, but what did Urahara get you for your birthday?"

Orihime thought about it a moment and suddenly made a face. "Oh dear, I never opened it. Gosh, now I feel awful." she seemed genuinely exasperated. "Goodness, I'd forget my own head if it wasn't attached."

"You've been doing that a lot lately." Ichigo said flatly, but with a hint of compassion.

"Doing what?" she went from troubled to innocent.

"You just seem kind of distant. You know...in your own little world."

"You mean I wasn't always like that?" it sounded like she was trying to make a joke out of it.

"Nah, you're all right, just," he paused, stirring his rice a little. "I dunno. What's bugging you?"

Orihime thought about it for a moment, looking for the right words. "Maybe...I don't know...maybe I'm a little lonely."

Ichigo was taken aback, but that quickly faded. That made sense. "What about your new cat? He not keeping you company?"

"When he wants to. Most of time he's tangled in my bras."

Ichigo made a face full of confusion and scandal. One would dare call it priceless. "Does he?"

"Strangest thing I've ever seen...in reference to cats that is. Other than that...it's just me."

"You want to come out with Rukia and I this weekend? After exams and all that of course."

"No, no, I wouldn't want to intrude. You two go ahead."

"I hate to leave you alone."

"I'll be fine." she had to concentrate to hide how touched she was over the compassion in his voice. Something in her was making her feel clingy, and being clingy over him wouldn't be a good idea. "Thanks all the same, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo would walk her home that afternoon, insisting and refusing to take no for an answer. He left her with a hug and a still open invitation to a night out this Friday after school, which she didn't accept or decline.

Orihime opened the door, careful stepping in as the cat was right there, its bright blue eyes wide and shimmering as he looked up at her.

"Don't tell me you're hungry, Hadagi-chan?" she grinned and lifted the cat into her arms, the animal immediately beginning to purr against her cheek. She stepped into the kitchen, finding that his bowl still had food in it. "Maybe you just wanted some attention?"

She took the small meow he made as a yes, snuggling him a little closer. She threw her books into the corner of the bedroom, changing into her lounge clothes, which were just sweatpants and a tank top, Hadagi sprawled across the back of her neck. She came to the couch and flipped on the TV, wanting a break from all the studying. She'd be at it again in an hour or two.

That hour or two came and went, and before she knew it, it was almost midnight. Not feeling all that disappointed she went to bed, walking down the hall like someone who had drank maybe one too many. Orihime flopped onto the bed, pulling herself into a ball before pulling the covers over her. She found the doll stuffed under the pillows, tucking under her arm as usual while Hadagi tried to find his place atop her breasts. He got a bit cranky when she wouldn't lie on her back, perching on her shoulder just so as to whip her face with his tail. But that seemed to backfire. His fur seemed to soothe more than annoy, and she was asleep in moments.

Slumber wasn't steady that night. No, too many troubling dreams of green-eyed gargoyles and princesses devoured by lions. Although to this day she would never be able to explain the pink hippos in tutus. That was a stretch even for her.

She woke the next morning exhausted and weary, taking more time than usual to prepare for school. In her rush out the door she almost forgot to feed the cat. But once that was taken care of she was running down the street.

Just as Orihime rounded the corner and heading up the sidewalk to the school, she felt her cell phone buzzing in her pocket. Who one earth would be calling her now?

"Hello?"

"Morning, Hime-chan,"

"Urahara-san," she sounded a little confused. "What's this about?"

"Sorry about the time," he laughed over the phone. "I'll make this quick. Could you stop by the store tonight? If not, maybe tomorrow morning?"

"Um, I...well," she thought about, still walking. "Okay...yeah, I can come this evening after school. Is something wrong?"

"Oh no, no, no, nothing at all." he assured her. "Just want to show you something is all. Is that okay?"

"I...suppose," she still wasn't all too sure what was going on. "I'll be done around four."

"Perfect, see you then. Good luck on the test." and there was a click.

Orihime felt strange all day long.

_(IV)_

Ciego sat on the throne, waiting, three of his Fraccion nearby. The fourth had yet to return from his most recent assignment. Valia and Azar were nowhere to be seen. Ciego began to feel impatience bubble up inside him. He never liked to be kept waiting. He began tapping his chin, having counted off nearly a minute before he heard the tell tale ripple of air that announced his servant's arrival.

"Antenora, come here," Ciego stood, meeting the Fraccion just beyond the foot of the throne.

Antenora knelt at his master's feet with signs of difficulty. By the looks of him he was quite thoroughly thrashed by something clearly more capable than himself. Blood stained his robes, his face was partially mangled, and there was a large crack on one side of his mask. Ciego put a clawed finger beneath the Fraccion's chin, forcing him to look up.

"Show me." he demanded in a low growl. Antenora turned his head to the side, reaching up behind his own head and pulling upward on his eyelid. Ciego couldn't help but grin a little at the fealty of his servant. He then took the clawed end of one thumb and, as slowly as he pleased, pierced the eyeball, blood gushing out of the socket as Antenora barely even flinched.

Ciego closed his eyes and images immediately began to flow into his mind. He could make out the petrified trees of the southern reaches, the red mist all around, and the blur that was Antenora's assailant. It wasn't perfect recall, Ciego couldn't hear anything, but with images as clear as these, it was a trivial thing.

"Well," he sighed after the images stopped. "I suppose there's no other course." he yanked his thumb free with a _pop_, Antenora putting his hand over the wound so the blood wouldn't spill so easily as he stood upright. Ciego turned. "Caina, you will go the woods. Destroy her and that hideous forest."

With a bow the youngest of the four (having been the last in the set to gain awareness, that is) disappeared.

"Go clean yourself up, will you?" he sneered at the other still bleeding behind him. Then he eased back to his throne, glad to be in it again. He sat quietly for several moments before lifting his head and taking a deep breath. "Valia, come here!" he shouted.

He was forced to call for her twice more, his voice growing into a roar due to his frustration. When she finally did appear she came at a slight hurry, her hair appearing mussed and her clothes not quite right.

"You bellowed?"

"I have a job for you, that is unless you have something more pressing to tend to." He lifted a knowing eyebrow. He could almost smell Azar all over her.

"No, of course not. What is it you need?"

"I want you to find your old flame, Dorian was it?"

"Ah yes." she twirled some of her hair around a finger. "I take it you want to use him, too?"

"Of course I do, what kind of person would I be if I didn't?" his grin was a smug one.

"Indeed, one can only wonder. I will see what I can do."

Author's note: yes, slow, I know, I'm getting to that. Oh, what on earth could Urahara be up to? Well, if I'm the fan I know I am, I have a feeling you already know. Stay tuned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Three**

"_Now here you must leave all distrust behind: let all your cowardice die on this spot."_

_The Inferno: Canto III, verses 14 and 15_

Orihime didn't know how much more of this she could stand. All day had been nothing but exams and she was damn near sick of it. Thankfully she was nearly done, the end of the school day only minutes away. Just a few more questions to answer...

She wasn't sure if she was hungry or anxious. On one hand she missed lunch again, on the other, she was curious as to what Urahara wanted to show her. However the hunger was at a slightly higher priority than her curiosity. She was beginning to feel a bit light headed. Still, she pressed through the tests, confident of her her answers, and was able to hand it in with the rest of the class once the bell rang.

"Finally," Ichigo shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn test was busting my balls. So, Inoue, you coming out with Rukia and I tonight?"

"Ah, no, thank you." She gave him her usual smile. "I've already got plans. Maybe we could reschedule some time."

"Well, if you're sure...are you?"

"Yes, Kurosaki-kun. Please tell Rukia-chan I said hello."

"Okay. You take care going home, alright?"

"Of course." and she watched as Ichigo went ahead through the throng of students, eventually disappearing. Orihime quickly left the building, aiming for her favorite fast food shop down the street.

_(--)_

"Is Orihime okay?" Rukia asked. She walked alongside Ichigo, heading down the sidewalk en route to the metro area of the city.

"I dunno," Ichigo shook his head. "I asked her about it and...well, it was like she was doing everything but give me a straight answer. I think something's up, but she doesn't seem to want to talk about it."

"Hmm," Rukia mulled over it, wondering. "What _has_ she said?"

"She said she was lonely. Not too sure what she means by that though."

Rukia was quiet for a moment, taking the time to think about it more. "Perhaps...maybe she's still being affected." she said in a somber tone.

"You think? That was a while ago, you know." he looked down with quirked eyebrows. "You really think so?"

"Everybody acts differently to things; this being a perfect example. You and I managed well after Hueco Mundo. Ishida seems a little troubled at times. However, Orihime saw parts of that battle that none of us could. I would imagine that staying with her for quite some time."

Ichigo thought about it a moment. "I guess it could. That would make a lot of sense. She never really did open up and talk about that."

"You honestly expected her to?" Rukia looked up at him, still walking.

"Well...maybe in a way...I never really encouraged her to either."

"Then, until you do, try to imagine what she went through. She was surrounded by her enemies on all sides, any of which able to kill her at a moments notice. Not to mention it was for quite some time."

"We did the best we could."

"No one's blaming you, Ichigo, I was simply stating the facts." she paused, eventually sighing. "My point is that we don't know, and we might never find out. All we can really do is be patient."

"I'm just worried about her."

"As am I, but maybe it is best that we not pry. Maybe she is just lonely. If she wants us to help she will let us know."

"I guess you right," he shrugged, rubbing his scalp with his fingers. "So where do you want to go for dinner?"

"Couldn't we stay in tonight?"

"Aw, come one, let's have fun," he almost whined. "A new tea house opened up a couple blocks over."

"All tea houses are the same in the end," she laughed. "I was thinking we could get something and go back to the house. Isn't Isshin-san away on a conference?"

"That he is," Ichigo grinned. "My sisters are with friends too...what on earth would we do with an empty house?" he already knew what they _could_ do. What can I say? Don't the brains of teenage boys live in the gutter? Of course they do. All Rukia could do was laugh at the knowing expression on his face.

_(--)_

Orihime felt terrible. The sun had already gone down and she was just now reaching Urahara's shop. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that the lights were still on. If they hadn't been, of course, she would have a gone home. Not to say she would have been too happy about having to do that. Her curiosity was getting too far the better of her. So, with that in mind, she meekly knocked on the door, looking like someone waiting for the scolding of a lifetime. She prayed that she wasn't interrupting anything. Moments later there was a shadow coming from behind the entrance.

It slowly slid back. "Hime-chan, I thought you weren't coming." Urahara looked surprised. "What kept you?"

"Sorry, just caught up. Traffic."

"Well, come in then." he stepped aside and then slid the door closed after she entered.

"So what was it you wanted to show me?" she asked in a tone that suggested she wanted to be home soon. Orihime seemed like a girl who didn't do well to stay up passed bedtime.

"No big rush. Want something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Right to business, huh?" he smiled. "Why don't we go downstairs then?"

With even more trepidation than when she came she followed Urahara, mindful of the darkness in the stairwell as they descended. She had to consider, for a moment, why no one had bothered to put a light switch at the _top_ of the stairs.

She blinked when the lights came on after they had reached the bottom. Her nose wrinkled at the slightly musty smell of the room. Her vision adjusted, allowing her to take a look around, having never been down here before she couldn't help but be curious as usual.

The first thing she noticed was the shimmering jewel that looked hauntingly familiar, although she couldn't place it at the moment. She quietly admired the beautiful emerald hue of its light.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Urahara spoke up, stepping towards the gem lying still in its cradle, a wooden box stuffed with folded cloth just big enough to hold it. "That glow is something else."

"What is it?" she asked, still unable to look away from it.

"That's the kicker, you know," he scratched his neck. "I have no idea. But I'll tell you something...it didn't start glowing like that until your visit last week."

Orihime looked at him strangely, as if she didn't hear him quite right. "I...I don't understand."

"That's okay, I don't much get it either. But it's a neat little thing, let me tell you. You wouldn't believe what it can do."

Her expression shifted as if to beg the question. Just what did it do? "What's going on, Urahara-san?"

"_That_ is what I wanted to show you." he accentuated his words with a pointed finger jabbing the air. "Now, don't flip out or anything,"

Orihime suddenly noticed the table there as Urahara reached for it. There was something under that white sheet that she wasn't all that sure she wanted to see. She bit her bottom lip as he pulled the cloth back, laying it flat once the hem reached the middle of the dormant gigai's chest. The too fair complexion, the tresses of straight black hair that almost came to points at the end, and that emotionless face. She could almost feel the scream building in her lungs. This couldn't be happening.

Her face tightened into an unseemly scowl. "What is this?"

"Come on, don't be like that," he tried to reassure her. "Don't you trust me?

She wasn't sure how to answer that without lying. Orihime could feel herself starting to shake, the unease beginning in her knees and steadily working upward. Her heart rate was starting to climb. This just couldn't be happening; any second now she would wake up...right?

Urahara was about to say more, but the gem began to show signs of activity. It started flashing like before, the light growing and dying. He noticed Orihime's expression shift only a little, the tightness of her frown easing away to show confusion and maybe a hint of desperation. It was like a part of her couldn't believe it, and the other was dying to grab hold and run with it.

Orihime felt the small hairs on her body stand on end when the stone began to levitate and spin in mid-air. She could almost fill the energy in the air pulse through and around her. It was warm and , in a way, terrifying. The shaking that started in her knees had finally reached her shoulders and migrated into her hands. She was forced to clasp them together at the center of her chest to keep still as the light grew brighter, pulsing harder.

Then the flux, a wave of reiatsu cascading across the room, making Orihime flinch at the force. Then her eyes were fixed on the gem until it died and fell back into its cradle. Despite what her mind was screaming, her feet moved her closer, step by tiny step, towards the table. The trembling in her bones grew, making it damn near impossible for her to be still even after her feet finally came to a stop just beside the slab. She couldn't stop herself from watching the still quiet gigai.

"Just wait," Urahara said softly, having seen her mouth begin to move in question.

Orihime kept telling herself this wasn't true, that it was just a pipe dream. Yes, that's it. She probably never made it to the cafe she had dinner at; she passed out on the way from hunger and would soon wake up to find herself at home, Ichigo waiting there to scold her for not taking better care of herself. Yes, yes that was it. That had to be...

It breathed. Orihime would have sworn that her heart stopped.

The expression shifted into one of tight discomfort, a hand reaching out from beneath the sheet to splay over the left side of the chest. Lips pulled back in a grimace and a staggered breathy moan escaped the mouth. At last the stunning green eyes opened and the gigai sat up, his hand still at his chest and clutching.

Orihime could only stare, unable to make a sound little more than a breath. Her heart flinched again as she noticed to green tear marks beginning to appear on his face, in the same place they had been. Sweet God, this couldn't be real.

"Uh," the sound came out as if under force. "This...this pounding." the words seemed slow forming and ran together. "Ah,"

A heart, he must have a heart now, Orihime thought frantically. He's feeling a heart beat! She felt her knees nearly buckle when he lifted his head, his expression still so full of confusion and physical hurt, and his eyes fell on her.

The pounding was foremost in his mind so freshly aware. He could actually feel a mild pain, a pressure on his lungs. His vision was only now just starting to clear, having been greeted with blurred colors and shapes when he first opened his eyes. It had filled him with a sense of...he couldn't find a word for it right away...was it panic? What _was_ panic? He had picked out the bright red blur over all the others, the brilliant color drawing his immediate attention. He senses were all scrambling to grab hold of something, to verify themselves into a tactile thing. The more he noticed, the calmer he became, his pulse leveling out and his need to breath becoming less paramount. However the confusion and mild anxiety were still there.

When he slowly but surely understood what the red blur was, memories flooded into his head. He blinked, closed his eyes, and let the images all fall into place. It was only few seconds before all was in its place, the last image being his last living memory from roughly two years passed.

He reached out his hand, his mind suddenly connecting a particular word to the human he was looking at. It was familiar, he had to hold on to it.

"Onna," he said softly.

Without a thought Orihime reciprocated the gesture, her hand extending, her two longest fingers beginning to slide between their twins on his hand.

She took a short, sharp breath just before falling into a dead faint.

"Can't say I saw that coming," Urahara looked considerably surprised. He then noticed the look on Ulquiorra's face, one that resembled dread. "Don't worry, I'm sure she's happy to see you."

_(II)_

Valia let out a keen cry as she felt that ever delightful clench in her womb. The driving she was getting from behind was just so perfect she wanted to cry. When she felt him come it was the greatest high, nearly rendering her unconscious. She collapsed to the bed gasping, much like her most recent partner.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." she panted, rolling onto her back.

"It's nice to know I still have the magic touch."

It was Dorian, the one Ciego had asked for perhaps...maybe a day ago. It wasn't that he was difficult to find, just that the two of them had been spending the last few hours fucking and little else. And who wouldn't with a man this good looking? He could make a nun forget her vows. Perfect body with the exception of the gaping hole where his heart would have been, it was chiseled and smooth in all the right ways, all the right places. His eyes were baby blue and breathtaking, complimenting very well his fair hair which seemed naturally perfect at all times. His grin was to die for, a small beauty mark just beside his mouth on the left side. Even his teeth were perfect. His mask fragment had been gracefully formed into a somewhat bird like shape to cover each temple.

"So what is it the old humbug wants anyway?" he asked, propped up on one elbow. "Not that I haven't appreciated my stay here so far. It's been too long since I was last in the palace."

"Well, as astute as you are, I would imagine you've gathered that Ciego wants to rule all of Heuco Mundo."

"That's a given," he nodded.

"He's been trying to gather the seven of us together, you know, the cornerstone of a new empire and all that nonsense."

"I take it he wants to acquire my services?"

"I imagine so." she sighed, seeming somewhat annoyed.

"What about old gross-out?" Dorian lifted an eyebrow.

"Buh," Valia shivered in disgust. "Perhaps that wretched horror has consumed himself by now. My skin crawls just thinking about him."

"I understand. And the other two?"

"Damned if I know. All I'm certain of is that savage _thing_ in the southern forest, which last I heard was about to be leveled."

"Really? Is that wise?"

"Since when has Ciego cared for what was wise?"

"I see your point," he nodded slowly. "Anything else that I have missed?"

"Not much more than that. Oh well, there was Ranza."

Dorian made a face. "Really? The prodigal son? Goodness, by the sounds of things I might as well have been hiding under a rock for the last few years." and then he laughed. "You should have called me sooner, Valia. You know I've missed our little visits."

"It's so much work looking after those two man-children I haven't had the time for fun." she swooned like the damsel in distress she was in life.

"Well, you have time _now_, don't you?" he shifted and bent his head so his too enticing lips were closer to hers.

"It seems that I do." she grinned with a little laugh. "Ciego can wait a little longer. You know, you always _were_ my favorite."

"That's what you say to all of us, I bet."

"Yes, but with you I actually mean it."

"Oh, my dear, you are such a terrible liar," Dorian sighed with a wide smile.

_(III)_

"Come on, princess, wake up." Urahara encouraged gently. "Come on, Hime-chan."

Orihime really didn't want to wake, not just yet. The dream was too good, good enough to make her think sudden death in her sleep wouldn't have been all that tragic. In the end she reluctantly opened her eyes, little by little, until the shop keeper came into focus.

"That's my girl." he grinned. "You feeling okay now?"

Orihime blinked at the light in the room coming from the windows. "Is it morning?"

"Yeah. You slept straight through the night."

"What happened?" she began to sit up, slowly as her head felt a little on the light side. What was she doing in bed? And still in Urahara's shop?

"You fainted," Yoruichi was the black cat in Orihime's lap. "You had us a little worried."

"I'm okay now, I think." Orihime brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I need to get home, the cat," she sounded suddenly in a hurry.

"You sure you should leave so soon?" Urahara tipped up the brim of his hat. "I think there's somebody here who'd like to talk to you."

Orihime felt her heart clench. So it wasn't a dream? No way, it had to be just a figment of her imagination.

Urahara moved aside, allowing Orihime to see the only other person in the room. It was a seemingly small framed, fragile looking man not much older than herself sitting against the far wall, his back to it.. His green eyes met hers through a tattered veil of black hair. It was strange to see that once granite face so ill at ease, a slight wrinkling at the middle of his brow. Much like last night, she found herself on the verge of collapse. Her mind just couldn't wrap itself around this particular occurrence.

She tried to speak, to denounce this as an illusion, but the words just couldn't form. One would think she would be happy.

"W-what's going on, Urahara-san?" Orihime begged the question, unable to look at him.

"Exactly what you think." he didn't smile, he didn't frown. "True, the soul is inhabiting a gigai, but by definition...he's alive."

"How?"

"That gem, whatever it is," Urahara adjusted his hat. "By the looks of it, I would imagine that it can gather particular frequencies of spirit particles and gather it together into a single entity. Something like your powers."

"B-but I had tried that before and-,"

"Hime-chan, I love you dearly, but you're not the best when it comes to your abilities." he patted the top of her head. "I'm still trying to figure it all out though."

Orihime felt like she was in the same boat, unable to figure it out no matter how much effort she put into it. It was like seeing a damned ghost. Her heart was pounding and she just couldn't look away from him.

The door into the room suddenly slid back, two people walking in, a man and a woman. Orihime turned her head, having to pull it with a little more force than normal. Immediately she could recognize the new visitors and she felt every muscle in her body seize. They should have been dead too. She jerked, pushing herself backwards sharply with her hands and feet as if to flee. Urahara grabbed her arms and held her still.

"Easy now, Hime-chan, there's nothing to worry about."

Starrk was about to speak but paused, seeing the little red-head girl that seemed strikingly familiar.

"Coyote, you remember," Halibel put a hand to his shoulder. "Pet-sama."

"Don't call me that!" Orihime snapped, her face twisted in a form of mild rage.

With a face unmoving Halibel slide her eyes to look at Orihime. "I meant no offense."

"Ah yes, yes," Starrk nodded, his hand at the stubble on his chin.

"It's okay, Hime-chan, just relax. The gem brought them back as well. I couldn't stop it, so it's best you accept it."

"Honestly, I don't think we could hurt you if we wanted to." Starrk laughed a little, as if trying to ease the thick tension in the air.

All the while Ulquiorra watched, curious. He'd never been curious but perhaps once before that he could remember. But was that really curiosity? Was_ this_ even curiosity? Was this feeling common among mortals this unease and trepidation, a need to know what was to happen next? What was that look on Onna's face when Starrk and Halibel entered the room, and how did it manage to change so suddenly into something frightening? Was it frightening? What was fear? What did it feel like? Would it hurt once he experienced it? Did he even know what real pain was?

After a few quiet moments Urahara saw fit to let Orihime go. "Did you need something?" he asked, looking at Starrk.

"No, no, sorry if we interrupted. I just...we just wanted some time to talk in private, that's all."

"By all means then. I'll get these two on their way in a moment."

"You're letting him leave?" Tia lifted an eyebrow, looking towards Ulquiorra. "What of the Shinigami? They'll find him in a heartbeat."

"I've thought about that, and I have found a temporary solution." Urahara reached into his yukata and pulled out a sheet of paper. He handed it Orihime. "You need to keep this on him or near him at all times until I can find something more permanent. It'll seal his reiatsu. He might as well be invisible to the Shinigami."

She took it and looked it over, seeing the sutras and not really knowing what they meant. "You mean you...want me to..."

"Take him home with you? You bet. Unless you'd rather not,"

"No, I will," she said it before she could stop herself. She chanced to look up and met Ulquiorra's still so curious gaze. "Th-thank you, Urahara-san."

"Hime-chan, listen," he began quietly. "I don't mean to step on your toes, but maybe this is just what you need."

"Need what?" she seemed genuinely confused.

"You'll know. Now it's best you two get along, wouldn't want your cat going hungry."

"Oh gosh, I almost forgot!" she scrambled to stand, never mind Yoruichi still curled up in the blankets. Once on her feet, still feeling a little unsteady, she took the few short steps needed to stand in front of Ulquiorra. He looked up at her with the appearance of an innocent, inquiring child.

"Would you...do you want to come home with me?"

His head eased to one side, his eyes narrowing as if to inspect her. Eventually his expression flattened, making her remember, and he held out his hand. She took it and helped him stand, finding herself blushing at the warm softness of his hand.

_He feels human...he feels alive._

Orihime apologized to Halibel for her outburst as she left Urahara's shop, glad in a way to receive swift forgiveness from the former Espada.

The walk back home was unhindered but slow. Ulquiorra appeared to need some time to grow accustomed to walking, his steps uneven and stiff most of the way. For his own sake she kept a modest grip on his hand, just in case he fell. As they walked she did her best not to notice all the eyes staring at him. It had to be the pale skin and the markings on his face. What else could it be?

Orihime fumbled with the keys when they reached the front door. She dropped them twice, resisting the urge to swear loudly when she bent over to retrieve them. Finally, with a frustrated shove, the keys obeyed and the door opened.

Ulquiorra entered the dwelling with what looked like caution, taking slow, calculated steps and looking at everything. Somehow it seemed new, despite how sure he was that he'd seen it all before. From the corner of his eye he watched Orihime enter the living room and followed, finding another room full of curious objects. He lingered here, wanting to make sure he got a good once over of everything.

Orihime hurried into the kitchen feeling absolutely terrible when she saw Hadagi's empty dish. The little cat came bounding out of the bedroom at the sound of dishes being pushed around. He jumped up onto the counter and meowed.

"Yes, Hadagi-chan, I know, I know. I'm sorry." she hurried about, chanting her guilt. There was some leftover pork in the icebox, which she cubed and place in his bowl. He dove into it with vigor, taking large bites. She then filled his water dish and went back into the living room. She noticed Ulquiorra looking at the mantle, at the picture on it.

"Ulquiorra-san...are you hungry? Could I-,"

"Who is this man?" he asked flatly.

Orihime took a breath. "That was my brother."

Ulquiorra twisted his head to look over his shoulder. "I take he is passed?"

"Yes." she replied.

"What is that?"

Orihime noticed he was still looking at her when he asked. "What is what?"

"That expression...tone of voice...what is that?"

"Oh well," she took a moment to think. "I suppose you could call it sadness. Maybe heartache...they go hand in hand sometimes."

"Do they? How does it feel?" he had turned and taken a handful of steps to stand just in front of her.

Orihime had to lift her head to keep her eyes on his, he being easily a head taller than her. She could feel warmth coming from his body which, mind you, was something she didn't expect. She felt herself shaking again, for what reason she wasn't too sure.

"How does it feel?" he asked again. His expression shifted slightly. "What is the face you are making now?"

Orihime looked away, needing to think. She needed to get it together or she would just be a disaster looking for a place to happen.

"Ulquiorra-san, I can't explain it all to you." she admitted, trying to sound confident but failing miserably. Saying his name seemed suddenly very difficult. " A lot of the things you need to know you'll find out on your own. I'm fine answering your questions, but there will be some that I won't be able to."

His eyes narrowed in an inspecting way again, then softened. "Very well. I understand."

"Good. Now," she gave a small sigh of relief. "Are you hungry?"

Ulquiorra thought about it a moment. "I'm...not sure. I don't believe so."

The lack of precision in his answer was almost endearing. "Well...how are you feeling? Tired, weak?"

"No." he shook his head slightly. "Just...strange. I cannot describe it."

"I would imagine that you do...what with a different body and all." why was she feeling so uneasy, so nervous; dare I say...giddy? Perhaps it was the sensation of being smothered she felt as his eyes bored holes into her.

"Your face." Ulquiorra commented suddenly.

"What about my face?" Orihime squeaked.

"Why is it so red? Are you ill?"

"N-no, no, I'm fine. It just happens sometimes."

"Why?"

Part of her wanted to pull her hair out over all the damn questions. The other part told her to explain. She didn't want to listen to either of them.

"It can be a number of things," she chewed on her bottom lip until the rest of the words came. "Nerves, embarrassment...and other things."

"Are you nervous?" he leaned forward ever so slightly, his nose almost touching hers.

_God, stop staring at me._ She growled in her head. "N-no, I'm not. Look, why don't you have a seat and I'll find you something decent to wear."

Ulquiorra straightened and looked himself over. All he had on was a dark green yukata, just enough to cover everything. "Is this not decent?"

"Not in this house," she grinned, almost giggling.

"I see. Very well."

Orihime left the living room for the hallway closet, knowing she kept some of her brother's old clothes in a box on one of its shelves. She fumbled and ducked falling objects in search of what she wanted, at last finding it on the very top shelf. Fishing through it she found a pair of shorts and t-shirt, suitable enough until she could shop for him. Orihime folded the clothing over her arm and put everything back in its place before returning to the living room.

"These should fit you okay," she said just as her eyes lifted to settle on her guest. It took a split second for her mind to register the yukata folded and sitting on the couch, no longer hanging from Ulquiorra's now naked body. One foot decided not to take its usual step forward, sending her stumbling to the floor with a _flump_.

"What is the matter?" she heard his voice and it sounded much closer. She didn't dare look up.

"You're naked." she forced out of her mouth.

He was quiet for a moment. Then, "Is that not acceptable?"

"Not right now, no." keeping her eyes firmly on his feet she chanced to stand, pausing when she realized he had extended his hand. Instead of taking it, she handed him the clothes. "Put these on."

Ulquiorra looked over the garments, no doubt finding them a little unusual. "Very well. Should I dress elsewhere?"

"M-maybe you should."

"What is wrong? Your face is red again." he noted. "Do I embarrass you?"

"N-no,"

"Do I look...abnormal?"

_Sweet heavens, no._ "It's just...like you said, it's just not appropriate for a man to be naked in front of a woman." she cleared her throat, trying to force all of the hot blood out of her face.

"I see..." he nodded. "Are there exceptions to that ordinance?"

Orihime almost choked. Deep down she knew he was just curious, she could tell by his flat expression, but part of her dared to consider the high unlikelihood of him being a pervert. Still, she wasn't going to lie to him.

"Y-yes, there is."

"I would like to know them so this does not occur again." he pulled the shorts up and they rested comfortable at his waist. Damn, he was a skinny one.

How on earth was she supposed to explain something like that? Well, she thought a moment; if she was honest and frank, he'd understand, right? She was beginning to think maybe it would've been best to let him stay with Urahara.

"What is bothering you, Onna?" he asked softly.

"I have a lot on my mind is all." by now he had put the shirt on so it was much easier to look at him when she spoke and not choke on her own tongue.

"Such as?"

"Like you care," she mentally slapped herself when the words fell out. That was her anti-Arrancar self talking.

"I do not know if I care. I know I am curious." the look on his face suggested he didn't quite understand why she said what she did. Did she hate him? Would he know it if she did?

"I suppose," she started, not sure what she was about to say. "Do you...what is the last thing you remember?"

"You." he said certainly.

"Oh," she felt her cheeks heating up again. "Well, do you know how long ago that was?"

"No." again, such exactitude in his words.

"Then...I know this is going to sound crazy but," she had to turn her back to him, she didn't have the courage to say it and face the expression she was almost sure he would give her. "I...missed you."

"Why?" he didn't sound effected at all. Go figure.

However, that was one of the questions Orihime couldn't answer.

_(IV)_

Ranza had felt the courage swelling in him since stepping out of the garganta. He and Largo found themselves on the outer reaches of the Rukongai some time in the mid afternoon, the sun in his face. Ranza examined the horizon from side to side, slowly skimming it and becoming familiar. He could just see the gleaming white battlements of the Seireitei, and with it the barrier keeping it isolated from anything undesirable. For the time being, that barrier was his greatest concern. He suddenly felt a tugging on his pants.

"What is it, squirt?"

"Can I take a nap?" the little Arrancar asked, rubbing his eyes.

"No, not yet."

"But I'm tired." there was a slight whine in his voice. "Just a quick one?"

"To him quick takes a week." Squiddy snickered.

"Let me ride on your back, Ranza." Largo looked up at him and held out his arms.

"Cripes," he growled, kneeling in spite of his better judgment. He felt Largo take hold around his neck and laced one arm under a leg to keep him stable. Then the snoring came.

"That's a new speed record." the parasite sounded surprised. "Now what?"

"There's gotta be way passed that barrier." Ranza said aloud, more so to himself. "By the feel of it, the Shinigami have probably fortified it since Aizen bit it."

"Yup, Fort Knox on steroids and Wheaties. Any ideas?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"I'm drawing a great big nothing, which is what I'm sure _we'll_ be reduced to when we come within a hundred paces of that gate." the prediction came in a cautious hiss.

Ranza thought about it a moment longer. Yes, discretion was the better part of valor, but...aw hell, discretion can suck it. He was here for only one thing; he was going to nail the son of a bitch or die trying. He wasn't about to go sneaking around. If he couldn't get into Seireitei, he would draw the man out. But, even there lay a problem. Who the fuck was he even looking for?

He would find that out one way or another.

Biting his lip Ranza descended into the villages and pastures of the Rukongai.

Author's Note: I'm sorry if some of this isn't making sense. Writing this is coming a little unnatural at the moment so don't be surprised if it sucks from time to time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Four**

"_Let us go, the long road urges us." The Inferno, Canto IV, verse 22_

The grandmother looked up at Ranza with a mix of confusion and sheer terror.

"Just look after him for an hour or two." The Arrancar requested. "Chances are he won't wake up any time soon so he isn't going to give you any trouble."

"Just don't get him wet or feed him after midnight." Squiddy chuckled.

"W-what was that?" the grandmother.

"Nothing." Ranza replied quickly. "Look, could you, just for a bit?"

"A-a-alright...I suppose." and she took a still snoozing Largo from Ranza with shaking hands. "You won't be gone too long, right?"

"Right. I'll be back as soon as I can. Thanks." He then turned and resumed his path to the gates of Seireitei.

It wasn't more than perhaps a hundred yards from the massive wall that separated the classes of Soul Society. Ranza knew people were watching him, staring. He did his best to ignore it, wanting to keep his mind focused on his purpose.

"I'm starting to get a bad feeling." Squiddy said.

"That's not surprising."

"Well...I dunno, it's not really bad, but it isn't good either. I just can't but feel like a mouse walking into a microwave."

"That's an odd analogy." Ranza lifted an eyebrow, looking down at his leg.

"Isn't it though? I mean, one step in that gate-if we make it that far-then its gonna slam shut and any second someone's going to hit the power button."

"...Eww..." Ranza shivered, the mental image far from pleasant. "Dude, shut up."

"Okay. Sorry."

Ranza shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Perhaps before his courage had properly set, Ranza arrived at the gate all too aware of its massive keeper. An absolute giant of a man barred his way, looking down on Ranza with a flat expression. His face looked to be formed from solid rock, the features sharp and severe, just like the iron studs on the club he clasped in one hand.

The guard had to bend down to look Ranza in the eye. "What do you want?" his voice sounded like it came from the heart of a cave, deep and echoing.

"Let me in." Ranza said resolutely.

"On what grounds?" he laughed.

"Business. Now open up." his courage was coming back.

"Hah, you're kidding right? You're a funny guy."

"I'm actually quite serious."

"He totally is," Squiddy added.

The sentry's eyes got big. "What was that?"

Ranza suddenly grinned. "If I show you, will you let me in?"

"Show me first and I'll think about it."

His smiled got bigger. "Alright, you asked for it. Squiddy, show him."

The guard was laughing until he was in the looming shadow of a terror unlike anything he'd ever seen. In the end Ranza let himself in, lifting the gate with only one hand, leaving the guard cowering in the corner, shivering and gibbering in his horror.

"Works every time."

_(II)_

Ichigo enjoyed a hot shower in the morning, doubly so if he shared it with a certain someone.

It wasn't the largest of baths stalls, and the water wasn't the hottest, but that was trivial. He and Rukia fit in it just right, and the water still gave him goosebumps, so it was enough.

Ichigo dwarfed her in size and stature, her diminutive frame disappearing as he stood behind her. Water splashed and cascaded over his shoulder, wetting her hair and dripping across her skin in tiny rivulets. The temperature sent sparks up her spine, but not as much as his touch over every one of her curves.

Ichigo shivered as Rukia hands wove and curled around his, just able to reach his neck and hook around it. He kissed the top of her head, her ears, his hands easing over her breasts and belly, her skin made slick by the water. All the while his erection had tucked between her thighs, spurring the snippet memories of last night through his head.

The feel of her, to hear her gasping and sighing, her scent in the darkness of night...God, that was so awesome.

"You enjoyed that, right?" he asked while it was on his mind.

Rukia stretched, her fingers curling in his fiery hair. "Maybe,"

Ichigo hoped she was just joshing. "Maybe?" he repeated.

"Might have to do it again, just to make sure." she purred in reply, lifting her head so she could look him in the eyes. "If you're up to it, that is. Although I'm willing to believe you are."

"You bet." he smiled wickedly just before pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. "Why not now?"

"I have to get back," she protested halfheartedly. "Someone will notice I'm missing. If Nii-sama finds out,"

"Just a little while longer, come on," he begged, nibbling on the bend of her neck. "I could make it quick if you want, take you fast."

Rukia wanted to shake her head, tell him no, but that sounded so damn tempting. She turned around, gripping his shoulders and pulling herself up. Ichigo caught the swell of her buttocks in both hands and forced her hips against his. She gasped, exhaling in a whimper before crushing his lips with her own. She shivered at the feel of the tip of him probing her core, almost begging to get insider her.

Unable to resist any longer, Ichigo pressed on her hips, forcing her down onto his throbbing erection, eliciting a choking cry out of her now trembling frame that was joined with his low growl.

"Ichigo," she breathed. "No...time,"

"Hush up and enjoy it." he licked the water droplets off her throat, slowly, leisurely. He then turned them in the tight quarters of the stall and pressed her back against the wall.

Rukia ground her fingertips into his shoulder blades as Ichigo began to churn his hips back and forth, the pace of his motions steadily escalating. Her ankles locked in the small of his back, her legs flexing whenever he rocked forward.

"Yes, just like that," Ichigo groaned. He reached back and took hold of her wrists, forcing them up over her head, their fingers lacing together. Rukia bit his bottom lip, sending a spark through him that only increased his desire to pleasure her.

Rukia felt as though she were going to fall apart. Every thrust seemed to make her black out for a mere split second, only to bring her back to reality with a harsh jolt. It was such delicious delirium, she had to have more.

And he would give her more, as much as she could handle. Every time they made love they would push the envelope a little more. Even if it were a small feat like a new position, or a new place, they tried to do something different with each encounter. Over the past year, they'd become what some would call adventurous.

"Ichigo, please," she cried. "Just a little more!"

He gave her everything he had, and received his just reward. With a sharp arching of her back she came, her core almost crushing him, forcing him to climax as well with a delighted roar he muffled between her breasts.

They would have spent the next few minutes just basking in the afterglow, actually washing in the remnants of the warm water, but that just wasn't the case. There was a loud crash of the bathroom door being forced open, as if somebody either stumbled in or tried to break it down. Ichigo put a hand over Rukia's mouth.

"You in here, Strawberry?"

"Renji? What the hell are you doing here?" he sounded so pissed.

"Didn't mean to interrupt, but I wouldn't have come if I didn't have to." There was an urgency in his voice that was certainly not customary.

"What's the matter?"

"Kuchiki-taichou said there's been an Arrancar spotted in Seireitei; it's all hands on deck, even you."

"Shit the bed," Ichigo growled. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Be quick about it," and then there was a flux of reiatsu, signaling the Shinigami's departure.

Taking Renji's advice, Ichigo was quick to shut off the water and gather his clothes. Rukia did the same, managing to ignore the lingering tiredness in her legs.

"Is it just me," Ichigo began as he pulled on a pair of boxers, "Or has Renji gotten a little distant since we got together?"

"I haven't really noticed." Rukia shook her head. "Maybe,"

"I hope I didn't piss him off."

"Let's worry about that later."

_(III)_

Orihime woke with a start, frightening the cat that leaped off the bed and up into the underwear drawer. She propped herself up on one arm, remaining still for a moment, her expression only half readable. Then she fully sat up, putting a hand to her face in a gesture of recollecting herself. She still clutched the doll under her other arm.

It was the dream again, the one that often began shortly after falling asleep and continued through the night, comprising of nothing but violent battles between Shinigami and Arrancar, and ending with the vision of Ulquiorra dissipating into dust. It hadn't been frequent for a while, not like when she first returned home from Hueco Mundo. It was every night back then.

Still in her nightgown Orihime got out of bed, walking into the living room. Part of her was caught by surprise to see a body occupying the sofa, a blanket draped over it. She paused a moment, just long enough for her brain to click and remember yesterday. Even though she could recall it in surprising clarity, she had trouble believing it.

Orihime stepped slowly to stand beside the couch. There he was, asleep on his back with his arms resting above his head. She couldn't help but stare for several moments before extending a c somewhat cautious hand towards him.

"Onna,"

She recoiled at the sound of his voice, warmth rushing into her face when her eyes met his.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You did not. I was awake, merely thinking." he said just before sitting up. He gathered up the blanket and began to fold it.

Orihime couldn't take her eyes off of him, sort of admiring the mess of his hair, how human it made him seem. She chanced a small smiled, not minding that he was looking at her.

Ulquiorra's brow wrinkled in curiosity. "I've seen you do that before. Why now?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing really," she giggled nervously. "Did you sleep all right?"

"I suppose. Yes. Except,"

"Except what?"

"Your animal is strange. It spent most of the night on the table staring at me."

"Hadagi-chan?" she sounded surprised. "Maybe he was just curious."

"Perhaps." he nodded eventually, his eyes suddenly rising and falling to look her over. "What are you wearing?"

"...I sleep in it." she managed to say, her face reddening again. Why couldn't she think straight? He was a man, a man with a heart that was sure to be transmitting certain feelings to his brain at the sight of the white satin and lace nightgown. "I'll go change."

"Very well."

She hurried back into the bedroom, quickly changing into something a little more suitable for the waking hours; blue jeans and a purple blouse.

"Would you like some breakfast?" she asked as she reentered the living area, wanting to change the subject.

"I think so." uncertainty tickled the edges of his tone.

"I haven't gone shopping yet, so I don't have very much right now."

"Should I wait?

"No, no, it's all right." she insisted. "I'll just be sure to go this afternoon. I hope you don't mind being alone in the house for an hour or two."

"I will manage." he didn't sound too distraught.

Orihime quietly padded about the kitchen, gathering the few things she had to try and make something for him to eat. First thing she did was set a pot to boil; at the very least he would have some tea. A few more moments of foraging only yielded two things; a package of chicken flavored instant ramen, and the surging guilt of being a bad housekeeper. She shook her head, realizing she was having a hard enough time taking care of herself these days, much less another person entirely. In her mild self-loathing she didn't notice Ulquiorra now standing nearby, watching from the threshold of the kitchen. Even in an unfamiliar body he still moved so quietly.

Ulquiorra knew what she was doing, only an idiot wouldn't. Still, he couldn't understand why. He was capable of feeding himself. With enough time he could figure out these god-awful mortal contraptions; but she insisted on catering to him. Yes, Ulquiorra was just vaguely aware of how to treat a guest, he remember having to care for her at some point in time, but that was orders. She didn't seem to feel obligated to provide for him. That didn't make any logical sense. Maybe this was just how it was for mortals? In any case, he found her fascinating for one reason or another, and watched.

Orihime tried not to appear startled when she finally noticed him standing there. She really needed to get a hold of herself if she wanted this to work out. Wait a minute...work what out? Maybe a tiny tinkerbell of a thought considered this might be a golden opportunity to...no way. Too good to be true. Regardless of the circumstance or the reasons, she knew she needed to calm down or risk a nervous breakdown. But the weight of his eyes was so heavy...

"Everything all right?" She asked after a long moment.

"Yes." he said without moving. "I am thinking."

"What about?" she tried to play to his curiosity, feeling suddenly a hint bolder.

"Many things. Mostly trying to arrange all of this into a perspective I can understand."

"What don't you get?"

He thought about it for a moment, a rare instance when the answer wasn't waiting on his tongue. There was a slight tightness in the middle of his brow. "How I came to be here. Yes, that would be a good start."

Orihime sighed. "I don't know either. Even Urahara-san doesn't quite understand it."

Ulqiuorra was quiet and still, apparently still mulling it over in his head.

"What do you think?"

The wrinkle in his face deepened. "I remember...it felt as though I was only asleep, yet I was aware that I was dead. And...I felt pulled. That is the only way I know how to put it to words."

Orihime had to pause, having seen the unbridled trouble in his expression. There were even hints of a frown lingering around his mouth. It looked like he _wanted_ to scowl over his uncertainty but wasn't exactly sure how.

"I'm sure it'll come to you," she attempted to reassure him "Just give yourself more time."

"Perhaps. We will see." He flinched slightly at the loud whistling of the tea pot.

Orihime was quick to move the pot, to make the unpleasant sound cease. She set it on a cozy while she fished a cup and a tea bag out of the cabinet just above her. She let it steep in the water for just a few minutes, stirring before handing it to him. "Try it,"

He took it, his expression having shifted back to an innocent curiosity. He put it near his nose. "What is in this?"

"Cinnamon and peach I think,"

It didn't smell bad, he thought. He chanced a small sip. His eyes closed as he let it flow down his throat, his entire bod flushing with a gentle warmth from head to toe. "This is...nice."

"Really? Good," she seemed relieved, as if a great hope was riding on the quality of her tea. "Give me a few more minutes, I'll have something for you to eat."

"Hmm," he nodded, taking another sip. "You do not have to do this."

"I know," she smiled, unknowingly interrupting him. "I want to."

"Do you enjoy servitude?" He asked candidly.

Orihime had to laugh. "This isn't servitude, it's courtesy. I want my visitors to be comfortable."

"Very well." he sighed. "Mortals are strange."

"Tell me about it." she rolled her eyes.

Ulquiorra raised his eyebrows high at her reply. What an answer! He only thought about it a brief moment before shaking his head and returning to the sofa. He nursed the tea until Orihime set a medium sized bowl down in front of him, filled with long noodles swimming in a steaming broth.

"I know it isn't much, but it should tide you over until I get back from the store." she looked at him hopefully, almost praying that her attempts at cooking would disgust him as it did everyone else.

Ulquiorra set down the half consumed tea, reaching for the chopsticks lying next to the bowl. He let it sit in his lap, the heat bleeding through his clothing to his skin, covering him in a thin veil of gooseflesh. He tried to ignore it, pulling up the chopsticks and bringing a bundle of the noodles up with them. He put them tentatively to his mouth, not wanting to burn his tongue. He swallowed the first bite.

"This will do." he nodded.

"Wonderful." then she disappeared into the next room, coming back with her purse on her shoulder. "I should be back in a little while. I put the sutra above the front door so as long as you're in the house you should be fine. Oh, and be sure not to answer the door. I'll have a key so I won't knock."

"Very well." he responded, watching the adjacent hallway fill with light and go dark again as the door open and shut. Now he was alone in the house, and couldn't understand why that fact made him feel...was it insecure?

Ulquiorra ate in silence, emptying the bowl and the tea cup. He took the soiled dishes to the kitchen, rinsing them out in the sink before stacking them neatly beside it. When he went back to the sofa he saw the cat sitting on the coffee table. Hadagi was pawing at the television remote, looking to be trying to flip it over and have access to the buttons on its face. Just out of the need to see what the animal would do, Ulquiorra flipped it over as he sat back down.

Hadagi looked at him with a pleased meow before turning his attention the television. With a slap of his paw it blinked on. It looked like a game show where contestants had to more or less mutilate themselves for prizes. Hadagi hit the button again, changing the channel. The cat did this several dozen times until he finally stopped on a station that appeared to be a broadcasting of _"Spring Break"_ from Cancun, Mexico. That is, an unedited broadcast of _"Spring Break"_. For the next hour Ulquiorra sat there with wide eyes and arched brows at the unfolding debauchery and gross overindulgence.

"Part of me is glad I am not there," he said aloud, as if speaking to Hadagi. "The other part of me is...I think it is not so glad."

_What a strange heart._

_(IV)_

Ranza's heart remained stalwart within the walls of the Seireitei, though Shinigami were steadily growing in number and closing in on him. His vision had tunneled, his mind fixed on only one thing: revenge. He would finally have it or die trying. Even his gait was steady, no longer needing his sword to keep himself up. Now he carried the weapon in his had, ready to draw it when the time came.

He didn't kill the Shinigami that challenged him, demand he surrender. No, that would have been needless. Most of them tried to take him head on, leaving them wide open for subtle movements of his hands and particular shifts in his feet to send them to the ground. When he lost his leg, while disabled, he was determined to find a way to handicap his opponents in a similar manner. While he recovered, he learned how to touch the nerves, block them, and disable body parts. It was still so fresh in his mind that it came automatically. One Shinigami he struck with not too much force in the throat, but it was in such a way that left him immobile on the ground. It wasn't lethal, but it was effective.

I won't lie, Ranza had no idea where he was going. He'd never been to Soul Society before. All he had to go on were his instincts which were almost always reliable. And his instincts told him to make a right at the end of the path, which you could only go one of two directions, never mind the griping from his leg.

"You should've gone left."

"Why, because you said so?" Ranza grumbled.

"That's not reason enough?"

"No,"

"Okay then," Squiddy made a strange bubbling noise before going quiet.

Still, he was no hurry despite the growing sound of feet behind and ahead of him. The Soul Reapers would be on top of him in minutes. He rounded the next corner, resisting the urge to swallow hard as his assumption had just fulfilled itself. There had to be at least thirty of them, all with swords drawn and at the ready. Ranza dispatched them in a similar fashion as those previous: swift kick to the inside of the knee, the butt of his sword to the neck, quick jab to the solar plexus, and every other way he knew how to inflict nonlethal damage to a person. Soon, all lay before him, either clutching assorted body parts in pain or out cold. Ranza turned to continue on the path when he noticed two Shinigami who had yet to actively engage him. One wore his dark hair just off the collar, and the other wore his hair...not at all. Ranza didn't feel the same single-minded 'orders are orders' attitude he felt in the other Shinigami from these two. Be that as it may, the reiatsu coming off of them was rather sizeable.

"Well," Ranza groaned to himself. "This could be bad."

"Shit the bed!" Squiddy squealed. "It's Mr. Clean and Boy George!"

"Damn man's a ventriloquist," the bald Shinigami laughed. "But that won't help you on the battle field."

The other flipped a hand through his hair. It was only then that Ranza noticed the feathered decorations on the man's eyebrow. What the hell kind of people lived here? "Such a hideous leg. It would seem when Aizen created you he didn't see fit to create all of you."

"An unfortunate accident that cost me my rank as well as Aizen's favor," Ranza grumbled. "Now move."

Baldy pointed his sheathed sword at Ranza and said, "Can't do that. I'm under orders to either eliminate you or keep you busy until a Captain gets here."

"I'm here for one person, Shinetop, and unless you're him, I don't have time for this shit."

"Such ugly language," Peacock Brow sighed. "What do you think we should do, Ikkaku?"

"I don't know, Yumichika." He turned back to Ranza. "Who're you lookin for?"

Ranza shrugged. "I don't know his name. Or even if I'm looking for a he. All I know is he killed Nnoitra Jiruga and because of that, I want to kill him."

"A heart tainted with vengeance is too ugly for me to fight." Yumichika shook his head. "He's all yours, Ikkaku."

"Great." Ikkaku stepped forward and drew his zanpakuto. "11th Squad, Third Seat, Ikkaku Madarame."

"Say what now?" Ranza asked.

"Just want you to know the name of your opponent before you die."

"Don't bother with names, pal. I won't remember it anyway."

"Well," Yumichika mused, "that's exceedingly rude."

"Nothing personal," Ranza said. "Never been good with names. I only remember the names of people I either really like, or really hate. Like Nnoitra."

"So, is that why you're here?" Ikkaku asked. "Someone killed your buddy, Nnoitra, and you're out for revenge. Is that it?"

"Hell, no," Ranza growled. He jabbed a finger at his leg. "Who do you think did this?" Ranza drew his sword and disappeared with the telltale distorted hum of sonido. He reappeared directly behind Ikkaku and brought his sword down, meaning only to hit the man on the neck with the flat of the blade, but the Shinigami had other ideas. He blocked the blow with the saiya and spun to the left to slash at Ranza. The Arrancar managed to dodge the blow and land a few feet away.

"Nnoitra took off my leg years ago, and whoever killed him stole my vengeance from me. I'm here to get what I deserve." Ranza swung his leg out at Ikkaku, but the Shinigami sidestepped and lunged. Ranza ducked and drove his fist into Ikkaku's ribs. He flew backwards but stayed on his feet. He regained his footing and charged again. Ranza planted his right foot and used a trick he only recently learned. He dislocated his knee from his artificial leg and spun on the joint, using the momentum to bring his good leg along Ikkaku's jaw. Ranza popped his leg back in with a grunt, and a little blue and white worm slithered out of a hole in his leg. It had two small eyes and a thin slit of a mouth.

"What the hell was that, asshole? I felt that!"

"Can it, Squiddy." Ranza heard an effeminate shriek to his right and turned to find Yumichika's eyes glued onto the worm.

"W-w-w-w-what on earth is that_ hideous _thing?" Yumichika shook his finger at Squiddy.

"You ain't much to look at either, Cher," the parasite sneered.

"I said can it!"

"Hey, you ain't the boss of me you two-toned, zebra-headed, slime-coLOOK OUT!" Squiddy shrieked. Ranza felt his right leg pulled out from under him just as Ikkaku's sword swiped across his brow. A few strands of red hair fluttered away on the breeze. Ranza recovered and tried to return the favor. Ikkaku jumped back and rested his sword on his shoulder.

"So that's who was talking earlier! Or should I say what?"

"Yeah, well this 'what' just saved his life!" Squiddy said. "You owe, me, buttnoid. New shoes, Dr. Scholl's inserts, clean socks, and a foot rub from Catherine Zeta-Jones."

"Not likely." Ranza looked back up to Ikkaku. "Now, are you going to get out of my way, or do I have to carve my way through you?"

"I got orders to kill any intruders so...what the?" Ikkaku's eyes focused on the left side of Ranza's brow. There was his tattoo. His mark of rank among the Arrancar.

999.

Ikkaku blinked, then started chuckling to himself. "And I was looking forward to a decent fight. I've faced the fraccion of one of the top three Espada and here, I'm facing number 999? You're not even an Espada! I can't believe I--" Ikkaku stopped once Ranza let his spirit energy flow. The reiatsu hit him immediately and choked his words in his throat. Yumichika's eyes widened and he took a step back. Even Squiddy felt a little intimidated and slithered back into Ranza's leg.

"Let's get a few things straight, Turtle Wax," Ranza said. "First, three digits means I'm a Privaron Espada, demoted from Aizen's top ten. Second, my number is so high because the higher number, the greater the distance from Aizen. I was imprisoned in the bowels of Las Noches for twenty years. So, you want to know why Aizen shipped me off to his own personal Hell?" Ikkaku's brow creased and he sniffed the air. Salt? No. It smelled like the ocean. Wind coming off the ocean. Who was this guy who could warp the atmosphere around him just with his reiatsu?

"He viewed me as a threat."

_(Three Minutes Ago...)_

Zaraki Kenpachi waved a hand in front of his face, pushing away the Hell Butterfly relaying the message that all squads were on standby. An Arrancar in Seireitei? If it was anyone or anything worth fighting, he would have felt it. Granted, he couldn't sense spirit energy worth half a damn, but somehow he always knew where to find the worthy opponents. He didn't even bother getting up from his sleeping mat. There were thirteen squads for a reason. If he couldn't show up, someone else would.

"Ken-chan!" Yachiru shouted, hoping up on Zaraki's hip. "You hear the message?"

"Yeah, what about it?" This kid got excited about every-damn-thing.

"You haven't had a good fight in a long time and Ichi hasn't been here for you to spar with."

"Well, this seems like some kind of small fry looking to prove he's bigger and better than the rest. Not worth my time."

"But, Ken-chan!"

"I said no." He rolled over and tossed Yachiru off his hip. He glanced at his zanpakuto. He had grown with it over the past few years, but its name still eluded him. However, he didn't need a name to know his zanpakuto was bored. Bored with mediocre training exercises. Bored with nothing happening since Aizen bit the big one.

A small twitch at the corner of his eye startled him out of his stupor. What was that? It felt like...Madarame. He'd found the Arrancar. Well, good for him. Let him have all the disappointment once he found out this guy is a nameless nobody. Well, might as well take a nap while this whole bullshit fiasco blows over.

Zaraki had just closed his eyes when he felt his breath sucked out of his lungs. What the hell was this? Was this the Arrancar? This reiatsu was intense. He turned towards what he felt was the source and swore he smelled salt. He knew he smelled a sea breeze. If this Arrancar was strong enough to alter the atmosphere around him, then maybe...

"Yachiru! We're headed out." Zaraki grabbed his Zanpakuto and slid the saiya into his sash. Yachiru jumped onto his back and poked her head over his shoulder.

"Told ya you'd like this one!"

"No you didn't, kid. But," Zaraki smiled, "I think I might get a challenge out of this one."

Author's Note: This is now official co-authored by Dingle, another author, also known as weaponmasterjoe on . Slowly but sure this is coming along. And yes, Orihime's cat likes to look at naked women. Why? I'll never tell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Five**

"_There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness."_

_The Inferno: Canto V, Verse 121-123_

Ikkaku couldn't keep up. Whoever this Arrancar was, he had gotten faster, stronger, and more ferocious than before. Many times he considered asking Yumichika for help, but his pride would never allow it. If he fell in battle, he would die on his terms, after fighting on his power and his alone. Well, hell, Yumichika was nearly choking on Ranza's reiatsu, so he was just about useless. And goodness knows Bankai was out of the question. Moments into the fight Ikkaku was tired, desperate to catch his breath, Houzukimaru was broken in half.

Several other Shinigami had arrived including Vice-Captains Matsumoto, Hinamori, and Shuuhei, but all were cautious to approach. Ikkaku was one of the strongest warriors in Soul Society, and for one man to reduce him to a fatigued wreck in four minutes was inconceivable.

"Will you stand aside, now?" Ranza asked. "I've done all but kill you, and your friends over there," he jerked his thumb, "are a little too pussified to step in. What else do I have to do to get you to move?"

"Perhaps a direct order will work." Ranza turned to see four more Shinigami walking towards him. All but one wore a white outer coat, the fourth wearing an offensive shade of pink. The other three were about as different as they come. The smallest, the one who spoke, had short black hair and two braids falling down her back. She wore a yellow sash and a look of contempt on her face. The next tallest wore her long hair in a single braid down her chest. The largest of them wasn't even human. He looked more of a fox or wolf than human, but walked on two legs as any human would.

"S-Soifon-taichou," Ikkaku stammered. "What are..."

"Yamamoto-sotaichou ordered us to see to the Arrancar," Soifon said. "Ukitake-san is bedridden at the moment, and Kurotsuchi-san expressed disinterest in examining another Arrancar."

"And Shiro-chan?" Hinamori asked.

Soifon turned her gaze to the young Vice Captain. "Hitsugaya-san is busy with a Hollow uprising in the human world"

"So this is really the best they could do?" Squiddy made a bubbling noise that was supposed to be a laugh. "Now we've got a cabbage-patch bitch, a Lassie reject, and the Bubblegum Avenger; I'd feel honored if I didn't feel severely disappointed."

"For your own sake," said the taller female Shinigami, the one with her long hair tied in front. "It would be best if you came along quietly." A calm smile settled on her face, a smile a mother would give her child if they had done wrong, but she still loved them.

Ranza felt his leg jerk suddenly. "What's your problem, grub?"

"Sweet Jesus," Squiddy's voice trembled. "Don't look directly at it!"

"At what?"

"Th-that smile...there's death in that smile!"

"You think there's death in a salt shaker."

"You ever seen what salt does to a slug?"

"Point taken. But don't tell me you're scared of grandma over there." Ranza lifted an eyebrow along with his gaze when he heard a low growl coming from the dog-faced Shinigami. "What's you're problem, Mutt?"

"I should tear your tongue from your mouth, spewing such disrespect at us."

"Patience, Komamura-san," the taller female spoke again. "We may be able to settle this without fighting."

"Have you seen the state Ikkaku is in?" Soifon asked. "The intruder wants nothing more than a fight."

"Wrong-o, bitch bag," Ranza said. Somehow, he liked the angry look on her face. "I'm looking for one man. The man who killed Nnoitra Jiruga. And somehow I can tell I'm not looking for you."

"Then maybe you're lookin for me." Ranza turned and spotted a hulk of a man walking towards him. He sported an eyepatch, a wide grin, and had his sizable zanpakuto resting on his shoulder. Ranza couldn't help but grin at the nostalgia. This man was just like Nnoitra, save for the wild head of hair tipped with...bells? Ranza closed his eyes and tried to gauge the kind of power this man had. It didn't feel like enough to beat Nnoitra. But he was hiding something. Something big.

"You killed Nnoitra?" Ranza asked.

"Yeah, about two years ago. What's it to you?"

"Your name," Ranza demanded.

The man smiled even bigger, if that were possible. "Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of 11th Squad. And yours?"

"Ranza Dorado." He turned his head towards the other Shinigami Captains. "Let's get right to business, I'll make you a deal. If I kill this guy, I'll turn myself over to your custody; if I die...well, I guess you won't have to worry about me every again."

"Wait, what?" Squiddy asked.

"You are in no position to make deals," Soifon said. "Our orders are to detain you and, if necessary, eliminate you. You will..."

"Hold now, Soifon-chan," the pink jacketed one said in a slow smooth tone. "Perhaps we should allow him to fight Zaraki-san."

Soifon jerked her head towards the older captain, eyes wide. "But, Kyoraku-san, our orders..." she began.

"Our orders," Kyoraku interrupted, "are to detain him. We can't very well detain him if we don't know what he's capable of. I say we allow the fight. Zaraki-san is a strong fighter. If Ranza-san can best him, it would fall to us to eliminate him, which would be easier if we better understood his abilities."

"Agreed," the motherly Shinigami said. She turned to Ranza. "You have a deal, Arrancar. If you best Zaraki-san in combat, we will take you into custody trusting that you will not resist. If you lose, we shall ensure your end is swift."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, bossman," Squiddy said shakily. "What's the deal? You get your revenge and then hand yourself over? What the hell's going on?"

"You didn't know, Gusano?" Ranza looked down at the little parasite. Squiddy's eyes widened. 'Squiddy' was just an insulting name Ranza used; he never used Squiddy's real name. Not unless he meant business. "When I walked in here, I didn't plan on walking out. Now, brace yourself, buddy, because this is really going to hurt." Ranza looked back up to his opponent and stabbed his zanpakuto into his false leg. Gusano yelped and squiggled back into his little cavity in the leg.

"Swear." Ranza twisted the blade in his leg and felt his spirit energy increase exponentially. "Hermanos de la Costa."

_(--)_

In the Rukongai, just outside of Seireitei, a horrendous noise erupted from a small hut. The older woman who lived there had long since vacated after finding the mysterious child's snoring unbearable. Largo's dreams were punctuated with visions of a pair of glowing amber eyes deep in a red mist. But mostly, his dreams were no different than usual.

"Heh, mnom nom, uh, cupcakes, ooooh, cookies, nyahh, Sweeeedish Fi-yash, ohoho, hammock, soda, lemonade WAAAH!" Largo snapped awake and sat up. His eyes were wide for but a moment before they drooped closed. He then rubbed them and looked around. He didn't recognize where he was. He remembered helping Ranza get to Soul Society, but not much more. Upon walking outside the hut he was instantly hit with a wave of air that threatened to knock him off his feet. It felt like he had just jumped into the ocean and got a lung-full of sea water. His eyes watered at the salt in the air. Looking towards the wall of Seireitei he saw a pillar of icy blue reiatsu stretching to the heavens.

"Ranza," he said softly. Then Largo did something he rarely did except in dire circumstance; he ran, sprinting towards the nearest door of the Seireitei. He had to get inside. He had to move fast.

He had to stop his best friend from killing himself.

As he approached the gate, he noticed a colossal guard standing before it. Largo would have to think fast if he was to gain entry, but that wasn't exactly his strong suit. Doing _anything_ fast was not his strong suit. The giant spotted him and asked what he wanted.

"I need to get in there," Largo said.

"You have no business here, child," the giant rumbled.

"But, but," Largo stammered. He needed a lie. Something. Anything. "I need to find my Momma."

"Your mother?" The giant raised an eyebrow. "Your mother is in Seireitei?" He squinted. "Describe her."

Largo thought about what a mother would look like and blurted out the best description he could think of. The further he got into the description, the more frightened the guard seemed. Was Largo really describing someone inside? No, he thought. That was impossible. It was just a lie. After Largo finished describing his 'Mom' to the guard, the hulk opened the door, apologized again and again at ninety miles-an-hour, and asked Largo to pass his regards on to his mother. Largo lifted an eyebrow and walked inside.

As the door fell behind him, he looked at the pillar of reiatsu. It slowly dissolved into nothingness and Largo knew Ranza was ready to fight. He had to get to Ranza and stop him before it was too late. He took a step towards where he believed Ranza was, then his legs fell out from under him and he was snoring before he hit the ground. Yeah, he had to stop Ranza. Right after a quick nap.

Lying was hard work.

_(–)_

Yumichika had to shield his eyes when Ranza released his full power. The light was intense, and the pulsing spirit energy even more so. When at last it dissipated, Yumichika chanced to look at the Arrancar. His jaw dropped.

Ranza stood in the midst of swirling dust and spirit energy, his sword gone. His mask had grown over most of his face, stopping just above his nose. Two rows of teeth ran across his top jaw and his right eye was now covered. The fins over his ears had grown slightly longer and a third had grown along his crown. He wore a long white coat and had his arms crossing his chest, but that wasn't the most amazing thing.

Coiled around him was a scaly creature of some sort. The head was hidden amongst the coils, but the wet, moving mass insisted whatever it was to be alive and well. It lifted its head and all saw Gusano in his true form. His soft head was now covered with a thick skull with sharp points and angles, and three openings, two for each eye and a third on his forehead through which emerged a third eye on a fleshy stalk. His upper lip consisted of nothing more than several tentacles about a foot long each. Chipped, jagged teeth filled his mouth, from which exuded a thick mist that stank of sea water and partially digested fish.

"Go," Ranza said. Gusano began to straighten, reaching his full length of about fifteen feet as it reared upward.. Tracing his body down to where his tail would be, everyone saw where it entered Ranza's body: his right knee. However, Gusano didn't attack, he lowered his head down to Ranza's level and looked him right in the eye.

"You, dickbutt, owe me an apology."

"What? I told you to brace yourself."

"Still hurt!"

Ranza was about to retort when he heard struggling laughter. He turned and saw Ikkaku pressing forward, the broken halves of his spear in his hands. "Finally, you show your true form. Now, I have a real challenge!" He charged, trying to bring the bladed end of Houzukimaru down on Ranza's head. Ranza caught it with ease, slammed his fist into Ikkaku's face, and grabbed him by the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry for stabbing you, Squiddy. If it's any consolation, it hurt me, too."

"Well, it's not," the squid monster said. "But apology accepted anyways."

"Now, do your thing," Ranza commanded.

"Ooh," Gusano grinned. "My favorite." He moved around where he could look Ikkaku in the eyes. Ranza gave the near unconscious man a jarring shake, getting his eyes to open. When Ikkaku's fell on Gusano, he found himself unable to look away. Soon, Gusano's eyes filled with an inky smoke that made them solid black. An expression of terror bled across his face and he soon started screaming...and then laughing. Then his eyes rolled back into his clean shaven head and he continued laughing. Yumichika ran over to check on his friend, rolling on the ground, zanpakuto long forgotten, the fight long forgotten, his sanity long forgotten.

"Whoa," Gusano mused. "Guy sounds like he OD'd on Joker Gas."

Yumichika glared daggers at Ranza. "What did you do to him?" he demanded.

"Gaze long into the abyss, and the abyss will gaze back." Ranza closed his eyes. "All who look too long into Gusano's eyes fall into madness. Your friend is lost in his mind, facing his personal demons and maybe a few impersonal one's Squiddy injected into his Psyche."

"That is going too far," Soifon said. She drew her zanpakuto and held it against her right arm. "Sting all enemies to death, Suzumebachi." Her zanpakuto reformed itself into a golden stinger on her middle finger, connected by a chain to a golden bracelet. "I will end you _now_, Arrancar."

"Not likely," Ranza said. He extended his right hand and three swirls of spirit energy manifested above it. They formed themselves into three mighty harpoons made out of what appeared to be pearl. He grabbed one and threw it just in front of Soifon, not seeming to care either way if she stepped aside or not. Then he grabbed the other two and tossed them just behind himself and Zaraki.

"Triangulo del Diablo!" Ranza cried. A swirling mist stretched from the hilt of each harpoon to encompass himself and Zaraki in a triangular prison. "Just a little insurance to make sure you don't interfere. No one can get in or out of the Triangulo without my permission."

"You bastard!" Yumichika shouted. He drew his zanpakuto and pointed it at Ranza. "I'll kill you for what you did to Ikkaku! Bloom! Fujiku..."

Gusano snapped his body to get between Ranza and Yumichika. He opened his mouth and forced his spirit energy to form a cero inside his throat. Just before he had a chance to fire it, he caught wind of something. Being part of Ranza, he didn't smell sea water. Instead, the serpent smelled some kind of perfume. It wafted from Yumichika's entire form. Lilac, lavender, and...ugh! Was that vetiver? That did it. Instead of a cero emerging from Gusano's mouth, a thick and gelatinous swill of half-digested chunks of God-knows-what and bile surged up and caught Yumichka in the face. Once the initial hurk was over, the serpent coughed and all was well, leaving him to look at Ranza a little sideways.

"That was supposed to be a cero," Squiddy said. "I swear."

Soifon quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, meaning to swallow any thoughts of regurgitating. Unohana closed her mouth tight with a frown and Kyoraku simply shook his head. Komamura looked on in disgusted awe. Yumichika, his vengeance forgotten, looked down at his chum-covered self, opened his mouth to speak, and promptly fainted. Zaraki, however, simply laughed.

"You just blew chunks all over one of my boys!" He leveled his zanpakuto at Ranza. "I'm almost regrettin' havin' to kill ya. You make me laugh."

"Save it, Jingles." Ranza materialized another harpoon and said, "Try to stay to the sidelines, Squiddy. This is _my_ fight."

"I make no promises, gimpy. I'm as part of this as you are."

"Fine by me!"

Ranza disappeared, using sonido to get just above Zaraki. He brought the harpoon down and Zaraki caught it with the flat of his blade, similar to what Ikkaku had done earlier. The captain whirled around, much faster than any of Ranza's previous opponents and tagged him on the left arm with his sword. He then tried to slice Ranza down the middle, the blow catching on the Arrancar's harpoon. Ranza jumped back, Zaraki dashing forward and bringing his sword down again. Ranza sidestepped and tried to parry, but Zaraki's sword almost caught Gusano across the face. Ranza sharply recoiled and put his left side to his opponent, making Zaraki raise and eyebrow with a sly grin.

"That's your weak point then," he said. "That fish comin' out of your leg. That's why you keep that side of your body turned away from me."

"If you really think that, then come at me."

_(–)_

Hitsugaya stepped back within the boundaries of Seireitei, a detachment of Shinigami filing in behind him. Immediately he was bombarded with almost intolerable smell of salt in the air. He covered his face with his hand, many of the Soul Reapers with him doing the same.

"What is that stench?" he groaned, his eyes narrowed in a scowl.

One among the group was not choking on the air, barely even flinching really. A teal haired Arrancar that the Shinigami had come to trust and at times rely on since the end of Aizen. She knew this smell, knew its only possible origin. And she, with the other Soul Reapers, felt the ebb and flow of the strong reiatsu coming from deeper within Seireitei.

"Neliel-san, how is it you can stand this foul air?" Hitsugaya was genuinely puzzled as to why she wasn't miserable like himself. He was doubly confused as to how troubled she appeared. "What's the matter?"

"Please, Hitsugaya-taichou, let's hurry." and she hurried down the path, the others eventually following to reach the source of the spirit pressure that seemed to be everywhere.

_(–)_

Ranza jumped to the side, making room for Gusano to strike from behind, his body straightening with enough speed and force to actually create a loud _crack_ to sound through the air. Komamura's ears flinched at the noise.

Zaraki twisted his body away from the worm, lifting his leg and bringing it down on the serpent's slick form. Gusano thrashed and hissed. Coiling just so, angling his head upward and releasing a massive cero, hitting the captain in the chest. Zaraki flew across the courtyard, crashing hard into the barrier, sparks and arcs of electricity dancing about upon impact. The Shinigami slumped to the ground, his face pressed down and his rear seemingly stuck in the air. He slowly righted himself.

"That...almost hurt," he chuckled after a moment. He then brushed the dust from his clothes.

"Jeez," Gusano grumbled. "That guy's built like a brick shithouse. And why did he have to stomp on me? Guy nearly broke my spine!"

"You're an invertebrate, Squid. You don't _have_ a damn spine." Ranza grumbled.

"You better be glad for that, else you'd have a fifteen-foot-long corpse hanging off your leg."

Ranza shook his head and commanded Gusano to coil around Zaraki's. The plan was to pull Zaraki closer to Ranza; however, the captain had better ideas. He grabbed Gusano by the face and pulled, jerking Ranza off of his feet and onto Zaraki's zanpakuto. Ranza felt the blade run through his middle and gagged a bit. Zaraki smiled just before Ranza drove a fist into his face and stabbed him in the shoulder with the harpoon. The Shinigami did little more than grunt, his left arm now dead at his side. Gusano, his face free, fired another cero at Zaraki. It didn't do much, but freed Ranza, a hole now ripped in his coat. Ranza smiled and pulled the torn cloth aside. There, where his belly button would have been, was his hole. Zaraki's blade had gone right through, Ranza unaware that the same thing had happened when Zaraki fought Nnoitra. Zaraki cursed himself for not thinking about the hole earlier.

"You got lucky, Arrancar" Zaraki said.

"I'll not let you get that close again." Ranza's spirit energy flared again and Gusano's eyes began glowing a light blue, much the color of a calm sea.

"Caldo Maligno!" Ranza shouted. From Gusano's mouth poured a stream of sea water. It surged towards Zaraki, but the captain jumped away at the last second. Ranza waved his hand and the surging torrent followed him. Zaraki couldn't dodge forever in such a small space. The wave hit him in the back and drove him into the ground. Ranza didn't let up. He commanded Gusano to increase the pressure, and the water drove Zaraki even deeper into the ground.

Outside the Triangulo, Unohana payed no mind to the fight. She was watching Ikkaku laughing, still in the throws of the madness, and Yumichika lying unconscious. She had to get inside and help them. When the serpent started spewing water, she still didn't pay much attention. It was only when she realized that the water wasn't leaving the barrier that she panicked. If she didn't get Ikkaku and Yumichika out soon, they would drown.

She walked up to the barrier and pressed a hand to it. She received a small electric shock. Well, not too small. It left her right hand slightly numb. She decided to try Kido to break the barricade of energy. She held her left hand inches from the barrier and focused her energies on it. Just before she could try, she felt a large hand on her shoulder. She looked up to find Komamura gazing into the wall.

"You wish to rescue Ikkaku and Yumichika?" Unohana did no more than nod. "Then allow me." He drew his zanpakuto and held it over his head. "Tengen!"

Above him materialized a large arm clad in a leather and plate gauntlet. He brought his fist down and the arm followed suit. It slammed into the barrier and electricity shot through it. Komamura grunted, but continued to slam Tengen into the barrier, despite Unohana begging him to stop.

Ranza was more than happy to just pound Zaraki into the ground, but someone ramming against the Triangulo caught his attention. It was the mutt, and he had conjured a giant fist to attempt to force down the barrier. It was impossible. No one could penetrate Triangulo del Diablo without Ranza letting it down himse...

A glowing split shot across the pyramid of energy. Ranza's eyes widened. How was that possible? This barrier was capable of keeping Yammy under control whenever he got in a rage; if this guy was making this much progress when the Cero Espada couldn't even scratch it, then how strong could this guy be? Ranza mentally told Gusano to cease the Caldo and turn his attention to Cujo. When the barrier finally broke, water spilled everywhere, finally having a place to drain, and the fist plowed through. Gusano shot out and wrapped around the arm, pulling it closer. Ranza noticed the mutt was unable to move his arm, almost as though he and the arm were connected somehow.

"Let's see now," Gusano said. "The finger bone's connected to the _wrist_ bone." He punctuated the word 'wrist' by squeezing the arm. The sound of cracking filled the air and Komamura cried out, clutching his wrist. "The wrist bone's connected to the _arm_ bone." Gusano constricted again, and Komamura let out another yelp. "The arm bone's connected to theAAAARRRGGGGH!"

Zaraki had jumped out of the hole the Caldo drove him into and hacked into Gusano's neck. Ranza screamed as well, and Gusano dropped the arm. It dissolved, but Komamura's pain did not. Unohana knelt next to him and examined his arm. She told Soifon and Kyoraku that she would take him back to the 4th Squad infirmary and see to his arm. She also asked them to follow her, and to bring Yumichika and Ikkaku with them. A shimmer of shunpo and they were gone. Soifon turned her angry gaze to Ranza and thought about attacking, but quickly discarded the thought. Instead she picked up Ikkaku, still babbling like an idiot, and disappeared. Kyoraku was a little slower to follow, opting to wrap the chum-soaked Yumichika in his pink kimono before lifting him and following the others to the infirmary.

"That was a nice shower," Zaraki said. "Refreshing. However, I think it's about time to end this." He lifted his zanpakuto to his temple and sliced off his eye patch. It had barely fallen from his face when Ranza felt the captain's spirit energy spike. The eye patch was somehow sealing his true power. Ranza cringed, pulling an injured Gusano behind him. It was only then that Ranza got a good look at Zaraki. His clothes were in tatters, shreds of black and white fabric hanging off his shoulders. The Caldo could strip flesh from bone, and after a solid minute, only his clothes were torn? For the first time in years, since Nnoitra took his leg, Ranza felt weak. He felt he deserved the number upon his brow. But he couldn't die yet. He had to kill this man. He had to avenge himself.

And he had to avenge her.

_(–)_

Largo snored himself awake. But, he would never admit he snored. That was just crazy. What woke him this time wasn't the smell of salt or Ranza's reiatsu, but another reiatsu, and this one was scarier than Ranza's. He looked and saw a yellow pillar of light rising from where he felt Ranza, but Ranza's reiatsu was weak. He was losing. Largo started running through the alleyways that crisscrossed Seireitei, trying to make his way towards the reiatsu. He would have jumped over the walls, but that would have taken more energy than running, which was already pushing it for the usually sedentary boy.

After spending about a minute getting lost, he figured the shortest pathway between two points was one you made yourself. He pulled a slingshot out of his pocket. No one would have guessed, but this was Largo's zanpakuto. It had taken this form so he could attack from a distance and not get personally involved in the fight. He pulled back the strap and charged a cero into the sling. After getting his aim right, mostly, he released the cero ball and it flew into the wall. As soon as it made contact with the wall, it exploded and shot out with enough force to knock Largo off his feet. He got back up, and looked at the hole. Through it, about a hundred feet away, he could see Ranza looking directly at him.

"Hi, Ranza!" Largo shouted, waving his hand.

_(–)_

Zaraki stepped forward, his eye patch forgotten. Ranza threw his harpoon at the man, but the Shinigami batted it aside. Ranza created a multitude of harpoons and threw them, but they were all knocked away. Gusano was injured, so he couldn't use the Caldo again, and the Triangulo wouldn't do any good. Sure, he had other techniques he could use, but they probably wouldn't have much of an effect on this fight. Ranza tried to fire a cero from his left hand, but Zaraki took the full force of it to the chest, unfazed.

"What is wrong with me?" Ranza asked himself. He was usually stronger than this. Before he even reached Soul Society, he resolved to either kill the Shinigami that ended Nnoitra, or die trying. He resolved that he wouldn't hold back. So, why wasn't he any stronger than this? Losing his leg didn't take this much power from him. Sure, he couldn't open garganta, his hierro was weakened, as well as his pesquisa, but none of those had any real bearing on his combat ability.

"Maybe," Ranza said to himself, his doom walking towards him, thick yellow reiatsu pouring from Zaraki's body. "Maybe I want to die. Maybe I just want to see her again. Why else would I do a stupid thing like bring the fight to Soul Society?"

"Don't ask me," Zaraki said. "All I know is that this is the most fun I've had in a while."

Ranza was about to die. He knew it, and accepted it. He had probably accepted it days ago. He just now realized how desperate he was for rest. He closed his eyes, said a small prayer to whatever gods would listen, and prepared for oblivion.

What happened next confused Ranza. He didn't imagine oblivion being so painless or sound just like the air-warping thrum of a cero. He opened his eyes and saw Zaraki blown into a wall to his left. He blinked and followed the trail of scorched stone to his right and spotted a small child standing about one-hundred feet away. It held a slingshot in it's left hand and was waving with the right.

"Hi, Ranza!" Largo shouted. But Largo was soon forgotten. Just behind the boy, Ranza spotted a teal-haired female wearing a Shinigami uniform. She had a white goat-like skull atop her head and a pink birth mark across her nose and cheeks. Their eyes met, and Ranza felt weak in the knees.

He had just seen a ghost. Nnoitra had killed her. He knew it. He saw her body dumped outside of Las Noches himself. That was when he attacked Nnoitra in a blind rage. That was when Nnoitra took his leg. The day she died.

"N-Nel?" Ranza gasped, just before Zaraki's zanpakuto stabbed into his right leg, right where Gusano and his knee met. Ranza screamed in agony as he felt Gusano nearly separating from his body. Zaraki moved in front of Ranza and kicked him in the chest, knocking him onto his back. Zaraki then hacked into Gusano again with every intention of slicing the little worm off of Ranza's leg. Nel dashed for Ranza, but didn't reach him in time.

Gusano lay there barely alive, blood dripping from his large wound as it wriggled weakly on the ground. His physical form dissolved and the spirit energy rejoined with Ranza's. Ranza had already reverted back to his original form, his zanpakuto materializing next to him. Zaraki took the saber and stabbed it into the ground and then grabbed Ranza's right leg. With a quick jerk, the leg popped free and Gusano and Ranza both cried out, though Gusano's screams were heard more so in Ranza's head.

"Looks like you can kill Nnoitra yourself, Arrancar," Zaraki chuckled. He tossed the leg aside and took his sword in hand once again. He raised the blade above his head. "Because I'm sending you to hell, hot on his heels!" Ranza struggled to stand, but with only one leg, found it extremely difficult. He felt cold. He felt dead. But he also felt confused. Was Nel just a mirage? A figment of his imagination that manifested itself out of the stresses of battle? Was it her ghost, beckoning him to the other side? Well, she was a pretty solid ghost, because she stepped between him and Zaraki, catching his zanpakuto on hers.

"Zaraki-taichou!" Nel shouted. "Don't kill him! Please stop!"

"Get outta my way, Girly!" Zaraki shouted. He tried to kick her out of the way, but she dodged and drove her fist into his chest. He doubled over and she took that opportunity to kick him across the face. He fell to the side, still clutching his chest. Nel turned back to Ranza and knelt beside him. He looked up at her, through tired eyes. They both smiled a little, until they both felt a new reiatsu appear. Nel turned and saw Byakuya Kuchiki standing just a few feet away.

"Nel-san," he said in a cold voice. "He is to be taken into custody. Step away from him so I may restrain him."

"No!" she shouted. "He's a friend of mine! And he's hurt!"

"I have my orders, Nel-san. If you will stand in the way of the law," he grasped his zanpakuto, "then I will remove you, regardless of the service you have offered Soul Society."

"The hell you will, Pretty Boy," Ranza said. "You won't touch --ow-- her. I may be down, but I still have one good leg to whoop your ass with."

"You have the strength to speak, Arrancar," Byakuya said. He released his zanpakuto and continued. "I will deal with Nel-san later. For now, you will come with me." He pointed his palm at Ranza. "Bakudo number 61: Rikujokoro." Six spears of light intersected on Ranza's torso, trapping his arms within its confines. Satisfied with the seal, he turned to the hole in the wall and asked, "Did you manage to apprehend the other one, Kurotsuchi-taichou?"

A man with a blue headdress and a white and black painted face walked into the courtyard. In his hand, he had Largo by the back of his shirt. "Yes, I did. A boring hunt, though." He shrugged and dropped a sleeping Largo at Byakuya's feet. "All I had to do was approach him. He started running and just as suddenly fell dead asleep. Loud sounds, physical stress, nothing can wake him!" He smiled and stroked his chin. "I'd love to examine him. Perhaps his body can produce an especially potent sedative. Or maybe..."

"I asked if you had captured him," Byakuya said, "not for an autopsy."

"The only reason I am here," Kurotsuchi said, "is because I felt a unique reiatsu that I now know originated from this Arrancar." he gestured to Ranza. "My time is very precious, and I am very busy, so as compensation for my efforts I expect to examine at least one of them, preferably the older one."

"You're not going to dissect him, Kurotsuchi-taichou," Nel said.

"Ah," he sighed, shrugging. "I'll just wait for Yamamoto-sotaichou to put him to death, then have my way with the corpse."

"Death?" Nel gasped, looking to Byakuya with a horrified expression.

"Yes, Nel-san," the 6th Squad captain replied. "He is charged with breaking into Seireitei, assault of Shinigami, assault of Gotei Captains, and possible alliance with Aizen. He is to be sentenced before Yamamoto-sotaichou as soon as I deliver him." He stepped towards Ranza, but Nel jumped between them.

"I won't let you!"

"You have no choice, child," Kurotsuchi said. He pulled a small syringe put of his haori and injected the green fluid inside into Nel's neck. She barely had a moment to react before she fell unconscious. "What a bother," he said.

"Nel," Ranza grunted. "If you hurt her, you pasty-faced fuck, I'll rip your tongue out your own asshole!"

"My, my," Kurotsuchi mused. "Such a feisty one. You'll be fun to cut open." He produced a second syringe and injected Ranza with the sedative. He had just enough time to look over at Nel, but then fell into darkness.

_(II)_

Azar didn't appreciate Ciego having sent him on the errand, in fact he was almost furious. He hated being forced away from adoring his collection of rarities and oddities he had accumulated over the many years. He so loved his many vases, tapestries, and priceless golden treasures, yet now he had been ordered into this damnable marsh to the north of Las Noches to find one of his brothers. It was tasks such as these that had demanded the creation of his Fraccion. These excursions required he had someone guard his possessions.

In this region of Heuco Mundo, what little moisture there was in the wasteland had gathered in the lowlands and formed the marshes where only mere skeletons of weeping willows and fallen stumps seemed to live, but that wasn't exactly true. Creeping and crawling things managed to survive among the mud and muck, there were even nasty bog flies buzzing about with tiny skull visages on their faces.

"Damn this hole, damn this fetid, horrid pit!" he swore aloud as he carefully chose one step after another, only to stumble into a deep recess, the muck quite clearly farting from the displaced air. "Bordell, where the hell are you hiding, you wretch?"

Azar forced himself still deeper into the marsh, swatting at the bugs and swearing the whole way. He tread mud for more than an hour, shouting and calling out, until he came upon the one he sought. There, among a mangled mass of desiccated trees that twisted among themselves to form a heretic's throne, was Bordell. He was a horrible thing, barely a frame of bone with skin hanging from it like a discarded coat on a chair. His limbs were rail thin, his fingers and toes almost claw like in their famine. Each rib could be counted even from a distance, the grooves and features in his face pronounced to a deathly degree. He only had whisps of hair upon his head, as if he suffered from a cancer. His eyes were sunken in, almost too deep, and his nose had completely rotted away, leaving only the deviated triangle of bone exposed just above his mouth. His mask fragment surrounded the opening and covered the top jaw, giving him an intact set of upper teeth and blade like tusks the jutted downward. The rest of his teeth were rotted and broken, threatening to fall from his mouth should he breathe too hard. His skin was darkened with filth and disease, sores and legions all over him. His eyes were yellowed, the emptiness of a Hollow pierced his belly, and his once white hakama was stained brown with patches of mud and grime. Some of it even appeared to be mold.

This pitiful creature was the hive from which ever pest of the marsh was birthed.

Bordell took a long, hissing rasp of a breath. "What do you want?" his voice practically oozed from his throat.

Azar was quick to answer, more than fed up with being knee deep in mud. "Ciego requests your services."

"You mean he demands," he attempted to laugh. "Why?"

"He is gathering us together, wanting to rule all of Hueco Mundo."

"Imagine that. What is in it for me?"

"I would imagine anything you could ask for." Azar wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not, not much more did he care either. "Ciego has been surprisingly agreeable recently."

"Has he indeed?" Bordell lifted himself a little, joints groaning and full flakes of skin falling off. "I would see him first, discuss my demands."

"I'm sure he would expect you to go to him." Azar nodded, knowing how his bigger brother was.

"To be sure. So tell me," he took another breath as if already tired simply from talking. "What if I refuse?"

"I can assure you that he will either leave you be or have you killed."

Bordell's laughter sounded like the tossing about of dead, dry leaves in the fall. He choked, black muck and mist gurgling out of his mouth and down his front. "I guess I had better see him then? Very well. Go, tell him I will be there when I'm able."

Azar said nothing before using sonido to escape that disgusting place, happy to have his feet in dry sand upon reappearing some several miles away from it.

Bordell would take a few moments before attempting to get up. He shook his head, laughing a little. His sense of smell was unmatched, and he smelled something on Azar that, in a small way, surprised him.

"Even _he_ fears me." he hissed. "You made me far too well, Aizen-sama, if even your other creations share your terror."

Author's Note: I'm sure you can tell where I've written and where my co-author has added his bits and pieces. Needless to say our styles differ. He writes action better than I can. Anyway, I know it's still moving pretty slow, but I'm working on it. Hopefully it will get moving by the next chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Six**

"_But tell me who you are, you assigned to grieve in this sad place, afflicted by such torture..."_

_The Inferno: Canto VI, verses 46 and 47_

Halibel rubbed the back of her neck, the tingling there not going away. Perhaps an hour ago Urahara had come upstairs, showing them his newest creation. It was a tiny, trivial seeming thing, looking like nothing more than stamp with intricate symbols on it. But that was what was special, it was the ink. When she and Coyote asked what was in it, he gave the half answer of "Nothing that'll hurt you". They simply accepted it, not really having the room to protest. Urahara then pressed the stamp, dampened by it's dark brown ink, to the back of their necks.

"The sutra will limit your powers to a certain degree, but it will also hide your reiatsu. At least it should. I'll know for sure in a little while."

And since then it had tingled, bordering on an itch.

"Bugging you too?" Starrk asked.

"Yes." she nodded. "I wish it would stop."

"Yeah, but I suppose it's a small price to pay. If this works, we should be able to get out of here soon...live our own lives."

She nodded again. It sounded like a good idea, but a part of her wasn't entirely certain of that. What on earth did she know about taking up for herself? She had always given away, bowed down to the desires of others without a second thought. Was that to change so suddenly? No longer meant to sacrifice...what a novel idea.

"What's the matter?" Coyote leaned to the side, wanting to look at her more directly. "Something on your mind?"

"Many things."

"Like what?"

She took a moment, thinking. "What are we to do with ourselves? I am not sure."

"Just be like normal people, I guess." Starrk shrugged his shoulders, shifting across the floor to sit next to her beneath the window. "I'm sure between the two of us we could figure something out."

"Us?"

"Sure," he nodded with intent. "Safety in numbers and all that. At least I would think we'd have better chances if we stick together."

"Yes, that would make sense." she said after a moment. It was quiet then, just for a bit. Then, "Why are you staring at me?"

"Just not used to seeing your whole face." There was a tiny sense of wonder in his voice. "You're hotter than I thought you'd be."

"I have looked like this for several days now. You're just realizing this?" She lifted an eyebrow as her eyes slid towards him.

"Hell no," Starrk sounded almost offended. "I'm not afraid to admit that I used to think about you quite a bit."

"I'm sure Lilynette wasn't very happy about that."

Starrk tilted back his head and laughed loudly. "I never told her. She'd probably tease me about it more than be angry at me. She loved to bust my chops about everything."

"What do you suppose happened to her?"

Coyote's face flattened, hints of sadness around his eyes. "I don't know, honestly. I can't remember sensing her...wherever I was. It's like she just disappeared, you know?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh...never mind then." he shrugged. "Still, in any case...I think I used to have dreams about you. Of course when you sleep as much as me the dreams tend to blend together." he laughed a little.

"I take it these dreams were fairly normal?"

"On the contrary," he continued grinning. "You might even get mad if I gave you the details."

"Why would I? They're just dreams,"

"I dunno, you always seemed pretty intimidating." Starrk confessed. "Guess I might be a bit scared of you."

"Hmm."

"Hmm? What do you mean 'hmm'? What are you smirking for?"

"I just find it a little amusing, that's all." and then she did something Starrk didn't expect until hell froze over. Halibel scooted a little closer and let her head rest on his shoulder.

"I am glad you're here with me, Coyote," she whispered.

"Never thought I'd hear that from you." he almost laughed.

"Be gentle, I'm trying."

"I know," he chanced to kiss the top of her head. A more friendly gesture than a romantic one. "But I'm glad you're here too. I mean that."

"Lonely," she sighed. Part of the statement was a guess, the other an audible reminisce.

Starrk sighed. "Guess so. Maybe even more now. Everything is so unfamiliar...it's almost frightening."

"I know, but at the very least," she added, "we have each other."

He nodded. "I think that'll be enough."

Halibel laughed softly. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"All what girls?" and the genuinely innocent puzzlement on his face was priceless.

_(II)_

Ulquiorra woke to find himself alone, with the exception of the cat of course, that still sat on the coffee table and scrutinized him with fiery blue eyes. The woman was not home, and he was only curious for but a moment over where she might have gone. His stomach growled, distracting him. With a quiet grumble of agitation he stood up, walking to the kitchen. He couldn't remember being so susceptible to hunger before being in this body, and it annoyed him.

Hadagi followed him, leaping up onto the counter beside the sink. He watched Ulquiorra move about, gathering dishes and things so he could feed himself. Hadagi meowed, demanding his attention. Ulquiorra ignored the animal, seeing absolutely no purpose in trying to speak to a cat, blocking out the sounds as he sliced some vegetables. His appetite wasn't very strong, so a little something would be enough for now.

"Meow...Meeeooow,"

He went on undeterred.

"Meeeooow...."

He began to slice faster, his irritation getting to him.

"Hey, asshole,"

Ulquiorra felt a sudden flux of spirit energy that rattled him, forcing him to jerk his body around, knife still in hand, towards the cat. But it wasn't Hadagi sitting on the counter any longer. It was an Arrancar, and a familiar one at that.

"You're kidding right?" the blue haired man grinned, an eyebrow arched upward. "Look at you, bat boy; the fourth Espada shaking in his boots. Pussy."

Ulquiorra didn't realize how his expression had tightened into a scowl, and his body was trembling, his heart rate now off the charts.

"Although I'll admit this is a pretty nice set-up."

"What are you doing here, Grimmjow? Are you not worried someone will sense your presence in this form?"

"Hell no. The only one I'd have to worry about is Kurosaki, and he wouldn't be able to find me even if I shoved me dick in his ear. Still, I'm just hiding out, that's all. What about you, or is that question too tough for you? That's what I thought." he laughed, the teeth on his mask fragment parting slightly. "Look, I'm going to be straight with you. I like it here; pet-sama is the perfect grub wench and she lets me nap on her big tits-it's like heaven. But if you so much as _think_ about letting me out of the bag...I won't think twice about decorating the whole fucking neighborhood with both of your entrails. We got an understanding?"

Ulquiorra felt himself shudder over the look Grimmjow gave him, the narrowing of his blue eyes and the tightness of his jaw to show his teeth. He couldn't fully accept the emotion filling him from head to toe, making his palms sweat and his mouth dry up.

Grimmjow tilted his head to the side, towards the kitchen window. Something was moving around outside. "We won't have any problems, will we? Didn't think so. Oh, just one more thing; tell tit-zilla to get me a flea comb, I've got them something fierce. I want her to give me a bath too."

Ulquiorra then twisted, hearing the front door being pushed open, when he looked back he saw that Grimmjow had once again become Hadagi who was appearing to be innocent and unassuming. Little furry liar.

"Ulquiorra-san," Orihime sounded glad to see him, as if he wouldn't have been there in the first place. She appeared to hurry across the living room to the kitchen. "Ulquiorra-san...is something wrong?"

"The cat," he tucked the knife behind him. "he startled me."

"You're all sweaty," she looked him over. "Hadagi must've scared you pretty bad. Are you alright? I'd imagine it must have been..."

"It is unusual...to..._feel_ this way," he seemed to be trying to catch his breath. "It will not happen again."

"No, no, it's okay! It's nothing to be ashamed of," she assured him. "It won't get better if you keep it all bottled up."

"You mean it will go away?"

"Well, no, but...you'll be able to manage it better. If that makes any sense." she was a little unsure about her answer, having never previously thought about it in detail.

"I see. The more I am exposed, the more accustomed to it I will be."

"Yeah," she smiled again.

He nodded. "Where have you been?"

Orihime looked a little surprised at the forwardness of the question. "Oh, I...I was...Urahara called me. Wanted to give me this," she fished into her purse and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with a dark brown something.

"What is that?"

"Urahara made it. You should be able to get out of the house once I put some on you."

Ulquiorra made a face that she couldn't read. He gently took the vial from her hand and looked at it. "I suppose...I have been cooped up for a while."

"Great, we could go clothes shopping!" she sounded oh so excited.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Oh come on, you can't go around in my brother's old clothes forever!" she patted him on the chest. "It'll be fun."

"Fun," he mused. "This is a pleasurable thing?"

"Yeah." she then noticed the half chopped veggies on the counter, the cat having started to play with a nub of celery. "Oh, would you like me to make you something?"

"I was managing before the animal," he didn't finish.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll get it." and she gave him a gentle push out of the kitchen so she could cook.

Again Ulquiorra couldn't help but ponder how strange this woman was. Her courtesy seemed to spring from nowhere, and she had no reservations for showering it on him. In what way did she look at him to warrant such generosity?

However the questions changed. After they ate, Orihime asked him to bend his head forward, and then she pushed up his hair that she might mark him with the ink on the back of his neck. It wouldn't be easily seen and hidden by any clothes he would wear. Unbeknownst to him, she drew the mark in the shape of a small heart, grinning to herself as she did so.

Still, the question was different now. She had put her hand on his bare skin, on the side of his neck. It wasn't so much where she had touched him, but that it made him feel so peculiar. Her warmth, the tingling it left behind, made his blood run hot. There was a tightness in his belly he wasn't sure if he liked or not. Her hand was so soft. He felt goosebumps rising all over him.

Now it was an entirely different question. No longer did he much wonder why she was being so kind; his mind was now plagued with the mystery of how much his body reacted to her touch. Did he like it? Is this how physical contact is supposed to feel? Was it supposed to make your heart pound and your focus go fuzzy?

Needless to say he would be sure to find out.

"Onna," he said as she took the soiled dishes to the kitchen.

"Yes?"

"I believe the cat has fleas."

"Yeah? Huh, let me check." there was silence for a moment. "Well what do you know. I guess we'll have to get some flea dip while we're out today. And a comb."

"Also," Ulquiorra began again, standing up to join her in the next room. The cat was still there on the counter. He slanted his eyes onto the animal. "I do not believe he has been...fixed, as you call it."

Hadagi's eyes widened and he looked up at Ulquiorra.

"Yes, I'll have to get in touch with vet, I want to get him his shots too." She said in passing, stepping back towards he bedroom.

Ulquiorra leaned down, his eyes level with the cat's. "You see, I can play this game too."

Hadagi reared back, his butt high in the air as he hissed and swiped Ulquiorra with claws stretched out.

Ulquiorra recoiled, grunting at the sharp burning spiking through him. He put a hand to his face, waiting for the initial pain to ease. When he pulled it back there was a small red smear across his fingers. It was strange to see his own blood.

"I've found some sandals you can wear, Ulquiorra-san." she had the shoes in her hands as she stepped out of the hallway. She dropped them when he turned around and she saw the blood trickling down along his nose.

"The cat." he said.

"Bad kitty!" she scolded, Hadagi running to hide under the sofa. "Are you okay?"

"It burns a little. Nothing serious."

"Let me clean that up."

"Woman," he grabbed her by the wrists, not too tightly. "I am able."

Her face reddened, her eyes widening and refusing to blink. "Oh...okay. But I could,"

"I am able," he said again, a little more insistently. "You do not have to worry over me so much."

It was a very long moment before Orihime cautiously said, "You can let go now."

Slowly he uncurled each finger and lowered his hands, finding himself dwelling on the charming pink flush in her face.

"Let's get going then," she said, clearing her throat and pulling herself away.

"Yes." he agreed, although not entirely ready to stop looking.

_(III)_

Komamura cradled his injured arm in the other, trying to ignore the steady throbbing coming from the broken bones. The cast was uncomfortable, the plaster having gotten stuck to some of his fur and pulling on it. He chanced to flex his fingers, finding tenderness even in moving them. He was taking all the herbs necessary to speed up the healing, but even with that it would take at least three weeks; his sword arm of all things! It was because of his injury that he was bound to his desk until further notice. His least favorite of all things. Komamura wanted to be out in the field, doing the work, he didn't want to be pushing papers, making piss poor attempts to write with his other hand.

There was a knock at his office door.

"Enter," he growled.

"Komamura-san,"

He lifted his eyes to see Unohana sliding the door shut behind her after having stepped so gracefully into the room. With her usual smile she drifted across the room to stand beside his desk.

"I see your mood has not improved," she laughed softly. "Otherwise I take it you are feeling well?"

"Hmph; I'm damn miserable." he slammed down the pen in his other hand.

"Don't worry, in no time it will be good as new. Perhaps this is an ideal opportunity to relax."

"I do not _want_ to relax."

"I'm afraid that it is now doctor's orders. I know you hate it, but it must be done." her tone was level, soft, motherly as always. "Who knows, you may come to enjoy it."

"I enjoy doing my job." he whined a little, his ears drooping.

"Come now, Sajin, no need to snarl so," Unohana embraced his neck and petted him on the chest. "Your work will still be there when you are well again."

"Hmm," he growled again, his whole body vibrating. He seemed content, his good hand curling about one frail seeming wrist. "Do you believe we could still have dinner tonight?"

"Unless something else comes up, I don't see why not. At the very least I could sneak away for a little while to come and see you."

"You're a sweet woman," Komamura smiled, his many teeth showing. "Any word on Ikkaku and Yumichika?"

Unohana straightened. "The only thing wrong with Yumichika is that terrible smell. However, judging by his reaction you would think he'd just lost his leg. Although Ikkaku is a different case entirely. It's still too early to say what will become of him."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What of the Arrancar that attacked?"

"I heard there were two of them," she mentioned at first.

"Two? How on earth could that have happened?"

"The guardian of the gate they entered through was interviewed. He said that the taller of the two scared him half to death, allowing himself in."

"And the second?" Komamura's ears twitched.

"I have heard he is little more than a child, a young boy." Unohana lifted her eyebrows, noting to her surprise that Komamura obviously shared.

"How could a _child _get passed a gate keeper?"

"From what I've heard it is a pretty outrageous story. The Arrancar claimed his mother resided within Seireitei's walls."

"And the keeper believed him?"

"I asked the same question but, according to the keeper, the young Arranca described myself right down to my pleasant disposition."

Very odd. "Perhaps he had seen you somewhere before?" he wondered aloud after a little laugh.

"I've been to Hueco Mundo but once in all my years as a Shinigami, and I do not recall seeing any children, other than Nel-san before Orihime-san restored her true form. It does not come together."

"Perhaps the little fellow is just a very good liar."

"The thought crossed my mind. With any luck Yamamoto-sotaichou will not have him killed and I will have a chance to speak with him."

"You know how captain-commander is about children."

"Yes, but I also know how he is about Arrancar."

"A valid point." Komamura scratched behind his ear.

"In any case, both are being held and carefully watched by no less than a captain and a vice- captain at all times. I honestly do not know what's to be done about them." she sighed finally.

Komamura nodded after a long moment. Then he lifted his head and looked up at her. "Was there something in particular you needed?"

"No, I simply wished to check on you." she smiled, as always. "Sorry for getting off topic."

"It's all right, it was kind of you to bring me news. But all-in-all I am well, aside from being a bit stir crazy." He grinned softly.

"Perhaps a walk around the barracks would do you some good. Or maybe it would be best for you to save all that energy for me?"

Komamura's golden eyes widened and shimmered, his mouth threatening to fall open. Unohana couldn't help but laugh, covering her mouth with one hand to control the volume. "Now, Sajin, you know I wouldn't assault a wounded man."

"O-of course not, heh-heh," he laughed sheepishly. "So I will see you tonight?"

"I will be sure to send word if I cannot make it." She nodded, still with a wide smile. "Take care, Komamura-san."

"Yes, thank you."

When he was alone again, Komamura was having a hell of a time to keep his mind from wandering towards mental images of what Unohana's words could have possibly entailed. They continuously manifested themselves as a terribly ridiculous notion of Unohana on his back, holding a lead to the spiked collar around his neck. Of course they were naked, but he didn't want to focus on that, much less the other details. Despite this, he had a difficult time feeling disgusted and not...frisky.

"No," he shook his head at last. "That wouldn't happen. Retsu is too noble a woman."

_(–)_

Ranza slowly came to, his head throbbing hard enough to wake him. He felt he was laying on his side, his left arm numb and stiff with aches in the joints. He managed to flip onto his back, groaning loudly.

"Where the hell's my leg?" he slurred, still a bit dizzy. "My fuckin' leg!"

"Quit yer bitchin' over there, some of us are trying to sleep."

Ranza slumped onto his elbows somehow, managing to lift his head. His vision was blurry and unstable, drifting back and forth with his body's motions. He blinked until he could see straight. The first thing he could make out was the wall of bars in front of him. Across the hall there was another cell, and behind those bars was a small cage, his leg sitting inside of it.

"That you, Squiddy? You still alive?"

"Yes," the parasite sounded tired, thirsty, almost having to work to breathe. "But I feel like shit. I need water...fish can't live without water."

"You're not a fish, damn it." Ranza groaned.

"I can dream can't I? But seriously, if I don't get some moisture...I ain't gonna last."

"Take a piss and bathe in it."

"You sick jerk. I don't have it in me anyway. Usually I keep full on you, but now that I ain't your leg buddy that's not working out so well. None of these cluster fucks in here can hear me."

"Don't tell me there aren't toilets in this hole?"

"I can't travel too far from the limb, Ranza, you know that. If I could I would've flushed my squiggly ass hours ago."

"I would have too. Sweet god, my head hurts." he pulled himself slowly across the floor of the cell, reaching for the bars. He gripped them tightly, pulling himself into to sit, anything to get the blood out of his head. His back fell against the bars, the back of his head bashing it a little too hard. "Hey," he called out gruffly. "Can we get some water down here? _Hey_!"

His voice echoed and there was no answer, even after several minutes. Ranza began to feel isolated, desolate, completely alone. So were they just going to leave them here to eventually expire and rot? He had hopes of at the very least going up in a blaze of glory in battle, but it looked like he was going to have to resign himself to this. What a fucking drag.

"Squid," Ranza said after a long while. "What do you remember? Of the fight, I mean."

"Well...let me think...puking on Ru Paul...snapping Snoopy's arm...and then getting my left ass cheek hacked off. That's about it."

"Yeah? Huh, I guess it was just dream."

"What was?"

"This is going to sound nuts," he laughed a little. "But I could've...I'd have sworn I saw Nel."

"Nel? Like, dead girlfriend, Nel?"

"Yeah, I know, bonkers. It just felt so real...like she was right there." and he shrugged heavily, like there was pain trying to get out behind the sound.

Some moments later the door opened, the metal hinges creaking. Ranza remained still, feeling the tendrils of sleep still pulling on him. He continued to listen, hearing steps and something being slid across the wooden floor of Squiddy's cell.

"Praise you, toots," he heard the parasite hiss. Someone must have finally gotten him some water. That was one less thing for him to worry about.

Ranza could just feel the spiritual energy of the visitor move about the room, settling just behind him. There was shuffling and shifting, something pressing gently into his back through the bars. Then a pair of arms, lithe and bordering on dainty, circled around him from the outside.

Ranza felt the breath in his lungs escape without his permission. A familiar, almost phantasmal scent enveloped him, taking his mind back to dreams and fantasies he had never really given up. Warmth blazed through his clothing, a sweet scorching on his skin. It was a touch he'd never felt until now, but had always wanted.

His throat had tightened and dried, but he still forced the words out. "I thought you were dead."

"No, just lost." Nel replied.

"I saw Nnoitra...he..."

"He broke my mask." she interrupted. "When I came to, I didn't remember anything of my life as an Espada. Pesche and Dondochakka took care of me, glad I could leave my old life behind."

"How did you get here?" he chanced to turn his head just a little, not far enough to see her.

"I made friends and they helped me get my memories back. But after Aizen, I just wanted to leave all that behind me, start again."

He could understand that. After all, that's what he had wanted too.

"What happened to you?" Nel asked.

"I fought Nnoitra when I saw him strike you down. I was so angry...I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't think straight...he took my leg in the end. After that he turned me in to Aizen and locked me up for twenty years." He felt himself smiling when her arms tightened around him.

"I'm sorry...I nearly forgot about you," she confessed.

"It's okay."

"No it isn't. You were my best friend, my only friend in that place."

"Of course. I loved you." he covered her hand with his, grasping it. "That's the honest truth."

She didn't answer at first, taking a long moment. Then, "I'm so glad you're alive."

"What's going to happen to me, Nel?"

"They want to kill you."

"I had guessed as much." he sighed, nodding. "What's happened to Largo?"

Nel just barely remembered the young Arrancar from her time as an Espada, having seen him on a few occasions in passing. "I don't know where they took him."

"I hope they haven't hurt him." and he was quiet for a moment. He shifted around, pulling himself from Nel's arms so he could face her. "So how is it you ended up in Soul Society? I thought these guys were supposed to kill our kind on sight."

"I guess you could say I was a special case. I helped them defeat Aizen, so they made me an offer."

"What is it you do then?"

"After Aizen died, a newly formed council ordered a huge reform, one of the new ordinances being the formation of a sort of Arrancar specialist group; anyone that could help better the Shinigami to deal with Arrancar. They asked for my help and I agreed."

"Would they have killed you otherwise?" he asked with a certain cynicism.

"Oh no, I don't believe so." she answered honestly.

"So, basically, you hunting your own?"

"No!" she looked insulted, and it was clear she didn't appreciate the accusation. "If I've done anything since coming here it's teach the Shinigami that all of us aren't evil!"

"I'm finding that hard to believe."

"Because you came in here looking for a fight?"

"She's got you there, pal," Squid suddenly bubbled.

"Shush over there." He then looked back her, shrugging. "I've never been one to doubt you, Nel, but I think I might start over this one."

"I don't suppose anything I say will convince you?"

"I'll have to see it to believe it." he shook his head.

Nel nodded, turning her head so she looked away from him. "All I can promise is that I'll do my best to help you."

"I know you will. I'm just having a hard time finding confidence in how far that will get me." his expression was a mixture of hopelessness and pleading. He vaguely resembled a lost little boy.

"I'm sorry, Ranza, but I have to go."

"I understand." he managed himself onto one knee and reached through the bars, snatching her hands into his. "You're gonna come back?"

"I'll try, but I'm not going to promise anything."

"So long as you try." he kissed her knuckles, loving the feel of her skin against his lips.

Nel then quickly left, as if she were expecting to be caught if she dwelled a second longer. Ranza slowly eased back onto his butt, moving as if in shock. But he seemed a little less stressed, more at ease in his own skin.

Squiddy had his head poking out of the bowl of water Nel had brought him, glaring at Ranza. "Sooo...are you gonna, like, you know, masturbate or something? Cause if you are, I wanna know so I can hang myself before your money shot."

"Quit staring." he scowled, covering his lap with both hands.

_(–)_

Komamura had managed out of his uniform on his own, changing carefully into less formal attire for dinner. Unohana would be here any minute, or at least he was hoping she would. This was becoming a normal occurrence, and yet Komamura still found himself to be fumbling and nervous with anticipation. Just the thought of having that stunning women in his home...

Even thought they had been seeing one another for several months, seemingly little things like this always got him excited. How it happened? Like some relations often do, it just came to be under their noses, and since it didn't seem to do any harm they decided to see where it would go.

He shook his head, straightening his thoughts so he could finish dressing, having a devil of a time tying the sash about his waist so it would stay put. He tucked his injured arm into his hakama, not wanting the sling he was given to garner any more attention than his arm already did. Komamura checked himself over one last time in the mirror, brushing his whiskers with his hand. It would have to do. When there was no more to be done about his appearance, he stepped into the adjacent room to wait for his guest.

Iba was waiting outside, eager to open the door when Unohana arrived. Komamura stood when she stepped inside, as he always did, greeting her with a respectful bow that she returned in kind. As she walked forward to give him a somewhat customary hug, he marveled over her choice of attire. Her kimono was dyed an imperial shade of red with a pattern of white cranes in flight. Her sash a was a subtle blend of blue and gray, complimenting the red very nicely. She did not tie her hair in the front, but instead wore it in a loose bun that settled on her shoulders, allowing her hair to frame her face.

She was so beautiful.

"Please, come and sit." he offered, and she happily accepted.

The meal was very casual, things the captains could often find in the commissary any time of day while on duty. Still, even the most humble of meals was made lavish by the company you enjoyed over it. Rice, sushi, grilled fish, the usual fare. Unohana had to fight a little not to laugh as Komamura tried to handle his chopsticks with his opposite hand. It was like he was learning the skill all over again.

It was like waging war against his utensils, trying to get them to cooperate. In the end he surrendered, taking one of the sticks and simply stabbing what he wished to put in his mouth.

"Would you like some help, Sajin-san?" she offered carefully, not wanting to injure his sensitive pride.

"I would not like it," he grumbled. "But I suppose I need it. Yes."

"Not if it displeases you." she shook her head.

He raised a hand. "If a man cannot discipline his ego before a woman then he has no right to it. Please, if you would." he sighed, lowering his ears as she came around the low lying table. She knelt down in front of him, taking his bowl of rice and gather a small amount of it onto the chopsticks. Like a kid not wanting to take the nasty medicine Komamura took the morsel and swallowed.

"Not so bad, is it, Sajin-san?"

"I suppose not." he was trying to not feel emasculated over this, but it was difficult. He didn't like thinking he couldn't take care of himself. "Thank you."

"Of course." she smiled.

With the meal finished shortly thereafter, they adjourned to the front porch to chat over some tea. The moon was fairly bright so there was no need for lamps. Often their evenings would end this way. They would spend perhaps an hour or two talking and then say goodnight.

"Retsu, could I ask you something?" Komamura looked towards the moon as he spoke, his nerves not allotting him the courage to look at her directly.

She nodded. "Anything if you would like."

"Very well," he took a breath, calming himself. "Why is it you're with me? I understand we have some mutual attraction, but I still don't quite comprehend your willingness in spite of my...appearance."

"Sajin," she began, taking a sip of tea before continuing. "Appearances aren't everything."

"But a case such as mine must discourage you somehow."

"Why?"

"Well,"

"I find you handsome in a different way, Sajin-san, a special way. I can't really explain it, but I have come to see your face as normal. Do you not believe me?"

"I find it difficult is all." his ears lowered, as if he were embarrassed to admit he couldn't accept her words as truth.

She laughed softly, but she understood how he felt. He had spent many years hiding his face, feeling that it was atrocious, and now he suddenly had her in his life, telling him it simply wasn't true. You can't expect an immediate change. She felt the need to rub his belly, thinking it would make him feel better.

"Why not have a little faith in me?" she scooted a little closer, her shoulder brushing against his arm.

"I am trying, Retsu, the best I know how." he confessed, his expression showing honesty. "Old habits I suppose."

"I see."

Komamura finished his tea out of nerves, trying to set the tea cup down carefully and not break it because he was feeling a bit edgy. Maybe deep down inside he was just scared to touch her, to have her touch him. His biggest shock so far had been her lack of hesitation when she put her hands on him. Maybe it was because of her many years as a healer, having put her hands on hundreds if not thousands of other bodies. Perhaps that's what made her a good match for him, nothing was extraordinary for her.

He chanced an arm around her shoulder, knowing small steps were always best. He slanted his eyes quickly to the side, checking her expression to find her smiling just a little. That allowed him to relax a little, enough to pull her just a bit closer. Still, he tried to focus more on the chirping metropolis of crickets over the unsteady rhythm of his excited heart.

"So...how is it we are going to move forward with this relation of ours?" he dared himself to ask this ever-sensitive question.

"In what sense?"

"Well," he coughed, clearing his throat. He praised the gods that dogs couldn't blush. "I suppose...well...um...let's start with kissing."

"I thought we were managing that rather well. Are you noticing anything I am not?"

"No, no, I just..." he rubbed the back of his neck roughly, not putting it back around her. "This is challenging to talk about."

"I'm sure you couldn't ask me anything I hadn't been asked before, or at the very least heard." she grinned like a cat, almost loving his innocence.

"Well, let's face it, Retsu-san; despite my looks, I am still a man, and as a man I often think of things...more so as to how it could possibly work for us. I mean...I would like to see this go further in the future, but I just...how?"

"All we can do is find out as we go along." she sighed, looking up at him with confidence hidden in her gentle eyes. "And...I will confess that I am actually looking forward to learning with you."

His ears perked and his brow lifted. That certainly wasn't an answer he had expected. And he noticed the pause; could it be that, in a small way, she could be a little nervous? Always the epitome of peace, it was strange to sense that from her.

When Unohana finished her tea they decided to say goodnight. Like a gentleman should, Komamura walked her back to the Fourth Squad barracks, Iba lingering some few yards behind out of habit and as an added measure.

"Thank you very much, Sajin-san. I enjoyed our evening." she said as she stood on the top step leading into the building, allowing her to be nearly his height

"I am glad." he nodded. "We will do it again soon"

"I look forward to it. Goodnight," she gently gripped his chin in her hand and tilted up his muzzle. She gave him a long, but chaste kiss, one that he reluctantly went along with. It was still very weird for him. He'd never been with a woman before, much less kissed one before Unohana. It would take a while for him to figure out this gesture.

She pulled away with a grin, blushing oh so beautifully. She gave him a little wave before going into the barracks.

"Goodnight," he whispered, suddenly feeling quite happy.

Author's Note: Don't flame me for potential bestiality or furry love. I support Koma/Hana all week long and you don't have to like it. If you don't skip it, if you do, rock on. Don't go on a day-long rant of how stupid the pairing is or how much you hate it, go find someone who likes to hear you whine.

The story is coming along, slowly, I know. I'm trying. It's just a brain puke, much like "Forgotten". I just had to do it, if for nothing more than excuse to explore my favorite bleach pairings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Seven**

"_For all the gold that is or ever was beneath the moon won't buy a moment's rest for even one among these weary souls." The Inferno: Canto VII, verses 64-66_

Orhime had been worrying since yesterday after noon.

Everything had been going very well. Ulquiorra took the bus ride rather well, despite looking rather uncomfortable with so many people crammed around them. He also managed when they arrived at the mall, with a small multitude hustling and bustling about at maddening paces. The former Espada was even quite cooperative when it came to picking out and trying on new clothing, seemingly careless of the prying eyes who found him odd looking. Maybe he didn't even notice them?

After that they went to the pet store, getting the few things they needed for Hadagi. Orihime found a flea dip that smelled like cherry blossoms, thinking the cat would appreciate it. Ulquiorra, of course, didn't understand the difference it was meant to make, but felt a tickling sensation in his chest at the thought of the animal smelling like fruit so frilly.

Once all of the errands had been run, they stopped for a late lunch in the food court. She convinced Ulquiorra to try a skewer of fried chicken with a sweet and spicy glaze. He didn't seem to like it at first but ended up asking for seconds, much to Orihime's delight.

It wasn't shortly after finishing their meal that Orihime became concerned. On their way out of the mall they chanced to pass by Uryu. Orihime had quietly prayed he didn't notice her, but he had, waving his hand and calling out her name. She didn't want to be rude and greeted him, sharing a hug and a smile. She told Ulquiorra to stay back a ways, thinking Ishida wouldn't see him, hoping he wouldn't.

Orihime made the trip home with this worry on her shoulders. What if Uryu noticed who she was with, made the almost too far connection of Ulquiorra possibly existing in the mortal realm? She bit on her nails and chewed her bottom lip nervously. If he had, would Uryu tell Ichigo? No, no, no, she chanted in her head. He wouldn't!

Ulquiorra watched Orihime stew and stir all the way back to the house, mulling it over in his head as to why she was so uneasy. If his heart was still absent it wouldn't have bothered him in the least, but since he became aware of her sudden change of mood the pulsing organ wouldn't leave him be. It flinched, almost tightened at the lowness of her bow, how downcast she appeared. He..._cared_ that she was upset in some way by Uryu's appearance. Cared? Is this the feeling that many called compassion? He felt an unexplainable and seemingly pointless need to reach out to her, take her hand.

Upon arriving home, Orihime busied herself with putting their new purchases away in their proper places. The cat shampoo went into the cabinet under the bathroom sink, and after much thought over the last few days, she folded Ulquiorra's clothes and put them in her brother's room. She was all right with it now, the thought of him sleeping in there. He couldn't stay on the couch forever after all.

Once that was finished she came out into the living room and sat down, Hadagi immediately jumping up into her lap and curling into a ball. Ulquiorra joined her a few moments later.

"Your cat is strange."

"Yes, you've mentioned that before." she smiled, petting Hadagi's belly.

"He watches pornography." all this he said while staring somewhat blankly across the room.

"What? Cats don't watch porn." she giggled.

"I watched him change the channels."

Orihime only laughed and picked up the cat, making sure the animal was looking at her. "You don't watch that naughty stuff, do you?"

"Mrow," the cat sniffed sleepily.

"See?"

"That was not an answer." Ulquiorra protested in his usual tone.

"Ulquiorra's just jealous," Orihime rubbed Hadagi's nose with her own before letting him lay back down.

"What do I have to be jealous about?" he refused to let his mind wander to the true connections between the cat and the possibility of his envy.

"I'm only playing," she dismissed. "The thing about cats is that you need to make sure they believe they run the house. It keeps them happy."

"Hmm." That was something he could accept as truth. His mind, or his heart perhaps, then turned him to change the subject. "What has been bothering you?"

"Huh? Nothing." she answered almost too quickly.

"That is not true. I have sensed that you are distressed. Why? Is it something to do with Ishida?"

After a long, tense moment, Orihime sighed, leaning back against the sofa. "I...well, I was worried he might have noticed you."

"I take it that would pose a problem?"

"I think so."

"Why?"

"If he told Ichigo..." something kept her from completing her explanation.

"You were concerned for my safety? I see. I am...appreciative."

"Really?" she seemed pleasantly surprised by his statement.

"However, as always, I am prone to ask why?"

Orihime felt put on the spot, in the hot seat so to speak. What a question. Well, no point in beating around the bush, he was sure to figure it out eventually anyway.

"I care about you," she finally admitted, her eyes firmly trained on the cat so she wouldn't have to face his powerful scrutiny.

"I had assumed as much," he said. "Even before now."

Orihime turned her head sharply and gave him a surprised expression, an expression begging for the details behind his reply.

"I may not have had a heart, but I had eyes." his gaze slid to fall on her. She could have sworn the edges of his mouth began curling up in an attempt to smirk. "Then again you were not very good at disguising your feelings...which hasn't changed."

"Call it a curse," she tried to laugh it off. He could still see right through her, and it was still creepy.

"Are you still troubled?" he asked after a moment or two.

She thought about it, still petting the cat, and then sighed. "Yes. I probably will be for a while."

"Hmm." he nodded.

Orihime lifted the cat against her chest, holding him close like a security blanket. Of course the animal didn't mind, he loved being nearly crushed face first into her plentiful bosom. She pet his head, seeking comfort from the steady purring.

Imagine her surprise when she felt Ulquiorra shift, his arm stretching and coming to curl about her shoulders. She followed the gentle tugging he put behind her until her head rested on his shoulder. Her body had tightened, unsure of what he was doing exactly. This was certainly not normal for him.

"Does this not help?" He asked with an unusual softness in his voice.

She slowly shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I'm surprised." was her simple reply.

"I had observed many couples today doing this. It seemed to relax them. Was I misinformed?"

"No, no," she forced her shoulders to fall into their natural position, fearing he would push her away if she didn't. "Just...this isn't like you."

"I know. I thought you would be pleased." he almost sounded hurt.

In a way she was, but it was still quite a shock. "...It's a nice start."

Ulquiorra knew what she was implying, even if she wasn't doing it consciously. It was painfully obvious from the beginning that she had wanted this to happen, for him to find his way back to a state of being alive. Urahara may have come upon his resurrection by pure chance, but Ulquiorra had a feeling that Orihime had probably wished for it. He could sense that a deep dark part of her begged for some form of relationship with him, most likely an intimate one. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of it, his heart getting in the way of a definite yes or no. Although, if he had to answer right this very second, he would be inclined to go along with it.

Her body pressed against his in a soft way, almost as if it fit there. The warmth exchanged between them made him feel physically good, but emotionally uncertain and somewhat excited. He...liked the feeling of her easy weight, her scent of something clean, and the softness under his fingertips as they touched her upper arm. He could feel her thrumming heartbeat, like a bird in a viper's shadow.

"Are you afraid?" he asked.

Orihime felt a spark in her brain, images flooding in from what was supposed to be a long lost place. She shut her eyes and remembered, seeing the halls of Las Noches, the room where she once stayed, and her ever vigilant guard that shadowed her every step. She focused on that cold, rock solid face, and how the thin lips formed the same question.

"No, I'm not."

"Good."

Orihime felt a shiver frolic up her back when she noticed he was curling strands of her hair around his fingers which had since moved away from her arm.

"So you like to watch people? That's another surprise." she grinned a little.

"I wish to learn more about this world I'm in. I need to be able to blend in."

"Is that all?" she lifted an eyebrow, trying to look up at him.

"For the time being."

Orihime found herself satisfied with his answer, not expecting much more than that. Baby steps, she told herself. They sat like that for the next hour, finding no reason to move away from one another. Orihime found the freedom from worry she wanted listening to the gentle lull of his heartbeat coupled with the cat purring. She could've spent the rest of her day like this.

Ulquiorra consciously fought the desire to doze off. Something about this was very comforting to him, made his heart seem to slow down and his eyelids heavy. Perhaps it was the warmth coming from the woman's body? Whatever it was, he wasn't too sure why he liked it, but in the end he accepted it nonetheless.

_(II)_

Ciego wouldn't allow Bordell to come much closer to him than he was currently standing. Any closer and some diseased thing living on Bordell's wretched form might be able to touch him with a malady. He felt only just so comfortable in his throne with his pitiful brother in his company.

"Greed already told me what it was you wanted me for." Bordell hissed, using Azar's old name as he stood there looking like a scarecrow.

"What can I say, you're the best I could think of."

"I'm almost flattered," he attempted to laugh. "Let's get to the point...what could you possibly give me that I would want in return? I refuse to be used for free."

"What is it you want, exactly?" Ciego stroked his beard.

"I want souls to devour...powerful ones. I want Shinigami...captains wold be best." Bordell had trouble finding the breath to speak, the disease in his lungs robbing him of air. "I would kiss your feet for that."

"No, please, don't." Ciego respectfully declined. "All I can guarantee is my best effort to get you what you want."

"You had better do more than your best." Bordell cautioned with no little amount of malice in his voice. "I am one of the chosen few that can make good on my threats towards you." and he grinned to show what remained of his teeth.

Ciego was aware of the danger he was putting himself in by bargaining with Bordell, it was like making a deal with the devil himself; high risk, high reward. He could certainly stand to gain quite a lot, but was it enough to outweigh the hazards?

"So what do you want me to do exactly?"

"It's a fairly simple task. I want you to mind the entrance to the tunnels beneath the palace."

"So you pull me from the swamp to throw me into a dungeon? I feel so privileged." he coughed in his attempt to show his sarcasm, choking on the grime inside of him. "Is that all?"

"Yes, more or less. I may ask you to come help us quell any uprisings, little things like that." Ciego made it sound like a casual operation. Still, it was something that concerned him now that he had servants living in the palace but not the efficient security forces to keep track of them. "Can you do that for me?"

"I don't suppose I can sleep on it...very well, I will. Don't expect any bowing from me, though, brother. Also, I wish for Greed to make me something I can eat until you bring me my payment."

"I will see him immediately. Now," his tone changed to one of a man in hurry. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable."

"Much obliged, and you can bet I will." Bordell used sonido to leave, but the reek of his rot lingered for several more moments.

Ciego was still and quiet for a minute or two before he tilted his head, almost looking over his shoulder as if to hear a distant sound. "Dorian, you're late. I've been waiting for you for days."

There was a loud crack of thunder and a flux of reiatsu. Ciego only winced, the echo coming from the throne room walls making the rumble almost too loud.

"Didn't mean to keep you waiting." the Arrancar appeared on the other side of the throne.

Ciego turned to look at him but almost instantly coiled away. "Put some clothes on, damn it all!"

"Nah, too cumbersome. Besides, one does often love a breeze." he giggled. "You should try it sometime."

"Clothing is what separates us from the beasts outside this palace. Now," he began again, still keeping his eyes averted despite how the arm of the throne conveniently rested in front of Dorian's...stuff. "I have a special job for you."

"I bet you say that to all your foot kissing whores." Dorian sneered with a sickeningly sweet smile. "I had figured as much. What is it, oh most pompous one?"

"I want you to infiltrate Soul Society and gather any information you can. With your peculiar talents you're the best choice."

"Flattery will get you everywhere. So what am I supposed to be looking for exactly?" he arched a fair haired brow.

"Anything. I have a feeling the prodigal son may have gone there. If that's true then he may have tipped off the Shinigami to us before they killed him. Should he be alive I would like for you to do away with him as well."

"You know I'm a lover, not a killer." Dorian sighed, checking his flawless nails for any defect.

"No, you're a slut." Ceigo stated flatly. "I'm not willing to take any chances just because you don't wish to get your hands dirty."

"Why not dirty your own then?"

"Because I have other things to do. Besides, you're the better sneak." Ciego continued to try and play to his vain side.

"That I am." Dorian stepped to the foot of the throne, keeping his back to Ciego as he turned his head. "You do realize that I'm going to take my sweet time? I mean, there are ten harem's worth of women in Soul Society..."

"Do what you must," Ciego growled, his patience wearing thin. "Just bring me what you find in a timely fashion...say two weeks from now."

"I suppose I could. It's been so long since I've been able to really stretch my powers. Maybe this will be fun. So long, big brother." and there was another clap of thunder, a flash of light, and small char mark on the floor where Dorian once was.

Ciego massaged his forehead, feeling tired. Why were his relations so damn troublesome to deal with? Still, he thought, Bordell was, more or less, on his side. At the very least for the time being. He had lost Largo, but that didn't much bother him, not nearly as much as his loss of Wrath's cooperation. She would have been a helpful hand. At this point, so close to having all he wanted, Ciego wasn't willing to overlook any possible advantage.

His mind began to wander away from him, to his memories, the fragments of his time alive. Much like Azar and Valia, he was able to recall much of his life before this one, of being mortal. He remembered why he couldn't pass on to wherever it is you go; he was so bitter.

He remembered the Twenties in America. He clearly recalled the speakeasies and the women and the rum-running. Ciego had been a soldier for the mob, overseeing many a transaction between the top families in the city. He had been reliable, always called on to take the tough jobs and that earned him a tall tower of clout. He could have and take anything he wanted. And he had been handsome to boot. Women loved him and he loved them back ten fold. Ciego knew damn good and well they were after his money, his good reputation with all the right people, but that didn't matter. The more women he bed, the more he could flaunt it.

In the end he attracted the eyes of a Boss's wife. He couldn't resist the conquest, he just couldn't. The Boss found out somehow, but decided not to kill him. Instead he mutilated his pretty face, scarred him for life, and took his reputation with his good looks. He was kicked out of the family and eventually died of old age, in his sleep with no friends and poor as piss.

The next thing he knew he was aware of himself and vaguely aware of Azar and Valia, though he didn't know them at that very second. Then there was Aizen, that smug bastard. He explained what had happened, how he forged the three of them from the same Hollow, which was an oddity even to the Shinigami then.

Ciego had only joined with Aizen for the promise of status and power among the other Arrancar. It seemed to be the only driving force in him. But, once Aizen discovered that the three of them were only of much use when they worked together, which was a small miracle to accomplish, he discarded them and they were banished from Las Noches.

Azar and Valia would tell very similar stories. By some odd twist of fate they had lived within the same decade, give or take a few years. Azar had played the Stock Market; garnering every material possession one could want or have. He had a wife, children, a fine house, clothes, cars, and more money than he knew what to do with. That all ended in the fall of '29 when the market crashed. Little by little he lost everything, even his family. In the end he found his great escape at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge.

Valia was once an actress during the advent of the Talkie Films. She was convinced she would be the next great silver screen success, but in reality she was only mediocre at best. And anyone she worked with would tell you she was a real bitch, very snobbish, demanding, and unappreciative. At the end of the season, when the Academy Awards were said to take place, Valia had felt terribly insulted as she wasn't even invited, thinking she deserved an Oscar more so than anyone. So, in her envious throws, she thought to steal one instead, thus insuring her immortality. She almost had her hands on one of the golden statuettes when the police discovered her. She fled, running into a busy street, and was struck by a vehicle. She just barely recalled wandering for several days as a spirit, discovering the last great slight against her. Her obituary, which she thought was deserving of it's own column, barely received a single sentence, and no picture of her in memorial. Her escapades at the Oscars didn't even grace the front page. It was like the world forgot her and she couldn't stand it.

Aizen had explained that they must have had their souls devoured by a Gillian, and somehow the three of them were able to prevail as separate but equally dominant personalities. Still, that wasn't enough for Aizen to keep them.

Ciego growled, rubbing his face with his hands. He needed a nap, anything to get these thoughts out of his head.

_(III)_

"Captain, we're going to be late." Nanao looked down on Kyouraku who was still in bed.

He stirred and twisted around under the blankets, opening one eye. He grinned. "Come now, Nanao-chan, give us a kiss. Surely that will give me the strength to start the day."

"Not before you're dressed." she adjusted her glasses, her ledger firmly tucked in her arm as always. "Now dress, sir."

"Please, Nanao-chan," he groaned. "I need it, I cannot truly live without it," all the while he was ginning like a cat and holding his arms up in gesture of begging. "Just a small one?"

Nanao had gone so long without giving into his absurd demands, able to get him to do as he should with enough pushing, but to be frank she was getting rather tired. Actually, recently, she had simply given up and would at times indulge him. At times.

She rolled her eyes, smiling on the inside as she knelt beside his bed.

"Please, Nanao-chan?" he bat his eyes, giving her a form of the sad puppy look.

"Just one, and then you dress." She cocked a cautionary brow at him, showing she meant business.

He smiled with a light chuckled before curling his arms about her neck as she bent down. Just as her lips met his he tightened his grip and twisted, forcing her beneath him without crushing her.

"Captain, not now!" she protested as he snatched her glasses away and set them out of reach.

"They won't start without me, stop worrying," he said between planting kisses on her neck. Nanoa fought him, knowing better, but she could only resist so much as Kyouraku was a genuinely strong man.

It was a swift and intense affair. His fingers twisted into her hair, the darkness of it bordering on demonic. With the other hand he parted the seams of her clothing, snatching a defenseless breast. He had no need to worry over his own clothing, as he slept naked. He growled against her throat as she scratched at his chest, playing and fighting at the same time. She bit him on the ear, making his skin ripple with an electric charge. His usually docile Nanao-chan was more sexual than she would ever willingly admit.

Kyouraku quickly untied the sash around her waist and yanked the hakama down just enough. He pushed her legs to the side, her naked buttocks now fully exposed, the rest of her body flat against the floor.

"How pretty you blush, Nanao-chan," he purred, kissing her deeply just before he pressed inside of her. Her delighted cry shook his body, only driving him to give her more. She was always so responsive, even to his most sedate advances, that a tiny touch to the back of her neck had her back arching, a groaning grinding its way out of her.

No, the tryst wasn't long, but it was far from disappointing. As was often the case, she would climax first with her dear captain following closely behind. A silly grin would grace his features while she laid there gasping, trying to recover and wipe away the small beads of sweat.

"You," she breathed, finding her glasses, "are a fiend."

"I know, I know," Kyouraku had finally begun dressing. "But you love me."

"As true as that may be, perhaps the question should be whether or not I like you." she stood and went about righting her uniform.

He looked at her with widened eyes. "Are you saying you don't?"

Nanao couldn't resist his pouting. "No, captain, I like you. It's just your sense of timing I tend to disapprove of. 'Because you feel like it' is not a valid excuse for being late."

"But love making is. If memory serves I believe Kuchiki-taichou used is once. Not in so many words, but you understand what I mean." he laughed as he tied the powder blue sash about his waist.

Nanao only shook her head as she refitted her bun where it was supposed to be. It was only minutes later that she would be fully satisfied as she and her captain left for the meeting they were already tardy for.

_(–)_

Ranza hadn't felt this boned (if you'll pardon the pun) since his leg was severed and he was convinced he was going to bleed to death. That was a hopeless feeling, and so was this. He had been rudely awakened that morning, a host of Shinigami outside of his cell. The came in, hoisted him up, and proceeded to drag him down an assortment of hallways, leaving his leg behind him to enforce his handicap. Nope, he wasn't going to be hobbling off anywhere anytime soon. His only consolation was Nel's presence, she was somewhere behind him. He found enough courage not to turn into a sniveling piss ant in the face of imminent doom.

Eventually he was carried through a pair of massive wooden doors, his boot sliding across polished floors between two long rows of Shinigami standing shoulder to shoulder. Each captain was present, their vice-captains kneeling down in front of them. Ranza looked from side to side as they took him to the far end of the room, noticing that several of the Shinigami, captains for the most part, had a red band around their left arm. He didn't know it, but it was to show that they had slain an Espada as well as their membership into the still fledgling group of Arrancar specialists.

The Shinigami finally set him down just a few feet away from a set of small stairs. At the top of them a very old man sat there, his beard in his lap. And there was Largo sitting beside him, seeming to be unharmed. Ranza was relieved to see him safe.

"Every single person in this room is prepared to kill you at a moment's notice, Arrancar." said the old man. Ranza could only guess he was the man in charge of this whole thing.

"I had guessed as much." he said quietly to himself.

"I had every intention of having you executed," Yamamoto began again. "But your young friend was adamant in pleading your case. Therefore I feel obligated to hear you out, to see if he is indeed telling the truth about you."

Ranza swallowed. He really didn't want to do this, he had a feeling he was about to open a can of worms he was going to regret. Still, if it meant he would live...

Ranza fought back his pride. "What do you want to know?"

"Did you come here to kill one of the captains?"

"More or less." he nodded "Yes."

"Why?" one of Yamamoto's caterpillar eyebrows moved when he asked the question.

"Vengeance."

"Please explain."

Ranza recited the entirety of his tale but with as little detail as possible. He mentioned Nnoitra's violent treason against him and Nel, thinking his fellow Espada dead. With that being said he couldn't leave out the loss of his leg and his time away from Las Noches to heal and plan his retaliation, only to return and find Nnoitra already dead.

"Well, Arrancar, as you see, Neliel Tu is very much alive."

"I didn't know it at that time. If I had, I never would have come here under the circumstances I did." Ranza lowered his head as if in shame. What had he to be ashamed of, really? By the look in his eyes, there had to be something.

"Why should we believe that?"

Ranza felt like punching the prune in the mouth. "Because I was never a big fan of Aizen. In fact I was a hop, skip, and a jump away from leaving that asshole."

"Were you?" Yamamoto's eye brows lifted. "This I must hear."

Ranza shook his head. Couldn't they just do him in now? He absolutely hated having to remember these things. "The day I lost my leg...I was going to find Nel so she and I could escape together. We didn't want to serve him...fight for him anymore, so we were going to find our way to the mortal world and start over."

"How were you planning to accomplish this?"

"By inhabiting gigai." was his simplest answer.

Yamamoto was quiet for a few moments, clearly thinking. Then he asked, "Who?"

"Pardon?"

"Who? You would need someone in the mortal realm to help you. Who was it?"

Ranza swallowed again. Why did he suddenly feel like he was stabbing someone in the back? Finally he answered, "A man by the name of Urahara, he offered to help."

Yamamoto nodded slowly. "I see. Now, what I would like to know is, who exactly are you? And I suggest you be completely honest."

The Arrancar had a feeling that the old Shinigami was suggesting that he would be able to tell if Ranza tried to lie. That wasn't surprising. He'd hear that some Shinigami could do that. Aizen was one of them, so he had no doubts to the truth in that. But Ranza bit his tongue, he still didn't want to spill it.

He took a breath and forced himself to speak. "I am Ranza Dorado, formerly the fifth Espada...and heir to the throne of Las Noches."

There was a quiet gasp throughout the room. Ranza could feel every single pair of eyes that had just fell on him.

"Well, what a surprise. However, that begs the question," Yamamoto paused. "Why abandon the throne?"

"Because I didn't want the damn thing." Ranza replied with indignation. "Unlike most of those jerk-offs, warfare wasn't exactly my favorite pass time. I did what I had to do to survive, but not much more. In the end I told Aizen 'fuck you' and went on. Not to say I didn't pay for that,"

"And does this disdain for your birthright still remain?" as if he really needed to ask.

"The whole place could be swallowed up by Hell for all care." Ranza quickly replied.

Yamamoto nodded. "You know that Neliel has also spoken in your favor?"

"I had hopes." the new knowledge made him feel a little lighter.

"However, I still have a few questions."

"I'm not going anywhere." he shrugged. "Shoot."

"Would you be willing, in exchange for your safety, to allow us to keep you here? You and your little friend would be kept under strict supervision and unable to leave the gates without clearance." Yamamoto offered, much to the surprise of several captains.

"Why?" Ranza's eyebrow arched.

"That answer brings me to my next question; what is the current state of Hueco Mundo?"

Ranza understood what he was getting at immediately. If he wasn't in the mood to be a physical threat to Soul Society, they would want him to be their advantage. So this is where Aizen got it from.

"I get it." Ranza nodded, resisting the urge to laugh over the irony. "Well, needless to say that without me the throne was left empty for the last two years."

"Are you suggesting that your place has become occupied?" Yamamoto lifted his head slightly.

"It has."

"By whom?"

Ranza took a breath, knowing his answer would be lengthy. "Three Arrancar have taken the palace. I wouldn't doubt they're gathering the ranks as we speak. As to what they plan to do with it, I don't know. I don't much care."

"But we care quite a bit."

"I'm sure you do. So this is what you want? You'll let me live as long as I squeal?"

"If that is how you choose to say it, yes." Yamammoto nodded. "You will have access to nearly everything within Serieitei, and we'll see to it that you are comfortably maintained."

"How generous of you."

"But I will say this; should you harm another Shinigami I will see to it that your end it swift."

"I wouldn't want it any other way." Ranza actually grinned, even though he wasn't happy at all.

"Very well." Yamamoto stood, a gesture to address the other Shinigami. "The Arrancar are to be escorted and retained in the Fourth Squad barracks. They are not to come in contact with any Shinigami until further notice. I would have the Ijin-ono meet with me immediately. This council is adjourned."

"If you don't mind, Zordon, I need my leg back." Ranza mentioned before they came to haul him off again.

Yamamoto opened his eyes a they fell on the Arrancar. "My name is Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto."

"Yeah, sure, I gathered as much. Still, I'm shitty with names unless I like you or I hate your guts. In any case, I need my leg back, and the buddy along with it."

"So be it." Captain-commander was beginning to sound rather miffed.

Ranza watched as all of the Shinigami with red bands followed Yamamoto and the others began filing out of the hall. Largo, who had just woken up, almost stumbled down the short flight of stairs in a rush to hug him about the neck.

"I like grandpa, he gave me candy." Largo told him.

"How on earth did you get in here?"

"I fibbed, then I took a nap."

"I figured as much. Where have you been?"

"Sleeping." Largo looked at him like Ranza should have known that yesterday.

"Come on, Ranza, let's go get your leg." Nel was now standing beside him, her hand extended to help him up. A hand Ranza was more than happy to accept.

_(–)_

"What a drag, I was really hoping for a good fight." Renji griped. "There goes my day."

"I hear ya," Ichigo threw his hands behind his head. "Guess it's time to get home. You sure you guys can manage without me?"

"Come off it, Strawberry. We managed fine for a century or two before you were even thought of. So beat it, we'll be fine." He would've said more, but something divided his attention. "Thunder? Huh, didn't seem like we were in for rain earlier,"

"Afraid of a little lightning?" Ichigo snickered.

"Twirl on it, will ya?" Renji then obliged to open a senkaimon. "We'll let you know should anything come up again."

"Thanks." and Ichigo stepped through to find himself on the sidewalk just outside his home.

And in Sereitei, Renji would walk back to his barracks in the rain.

Author's Note: I'm almost trying really hard not to be corny. If I'm failing miserably, forgive me. This is coming along I suppose, hopefully I'll have more information as well as action in the next chapter. Enjoy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Eight**

"_Eternal fire burns within, giving off the reddish glow you see diffused throughout this lower hell."_

_The Inferno: Canto VIII, Verse 73-75_

Halibel held the bottle of water steady on her palm. Starrk was sitting across from her, watching for the same thing she was. Both of them could have sworn the water had moved by itself; well, Halibel wouldn't say it did it on it's own. She thought about it, and it happened. Again she focused, bid it move, and it obeyed with the tiniest of ripples.

"Tiburon," Starrk said softly. "Maybe?"

"Possible," she replied, setting the bottle down on the table. "I would imagine I could do more without the ink."

Starrk nodded. "I can't help but wonder what else might have followed us back."

"Indeed. However, I fear if it is much more, it won't be long before we are discovered. I'm sure Urahara cannot hide us forever."

"I have no doubt of that." he nodded again, then thought to change the subject. "Nice to get out though. Weather's awesome."

He was right, the breeze was light and clean, and the sun was in and out from behind the clouds. No one could've asked for a prettier day. They were just down the block from the shop, sitting at a table in a small park where children played and dogs caught frisbees.

"Yes, it is nice."

Starrk sat astride the bench, resting only one elbow on the table top. He interchanged between watching the busy traffic and the kids. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true. There were the cars, the kids, and Tia's breasts which just barely fit into the white cotton tee shirt she was wearing.

She'd opened up to him quite a bit over the last few days. Sure, she was still pretty quiet, but in comparison to before she was a chatterbox. Urahara would invite them downstairs to watch television with him and she would actually laugh, once even being brought to tears for giggling so hard. Such rare form almost begged for Coyote's attention and admiration. She had a rich, warm, pleasing laugh.

Since he first heard that laugh, he grinned at the thought, they had come to share a bed upstairs.

"Coyote,"

He pulled himself out of his fancies at the sound of his name. His lifted his brow and slid his eyes to look at her, his head propped up on his fist.

"Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"I suppose not." she began to stand. "We should head back."

"What's the matter?" he asked, uncertain as he mimicked her and stood up.

"Something feels...odd." was the last she said before beginning the walk back.

Stark had to put conscious effort into keeping up with her. "We in a hurry?" She didn't answer, only kept walking at a more than brisk pace.

They rounded the corner, onto the street that was home to the shop, and Tia stopped. She stuck out her arm, bringing Starrk to a sudden halt. Before he could say a word, she nodded her head, and he looked.

A small company Shinigami, one of them dressed in mortal clothing, just walked into the shop.

_(II)_

The room wasn't much bigger than the cell he had been in just yesterday, but it was certainly more comfortable. There was a window and a bed, and a private bathroom, so he was on the verge of calling it luxurious.

Ranza and Largo had been left alone here for the last twelve hours or so. A Shinigami of small stature, nervous and jittery, came to give them food twice over that course of time, but that was the only contact they had with anyone outside of the room. He heard dozens if not hundreds of pairs of feet stepping up and down the hallway all night long, but they just went on their way, paying him no mind.

No, he hadn't slept too well. Ranza was convinced that they might try and kill him and Largo as they slept, so there was no chance he was going to doze off. Needless to say he hadn't enough reason to fully trust anyone within these walls.

Ranza was sitting in the chair beside the bed, his stump resting on the edge of it while Largo took the rest, spread eagled and twisted up in the sheets. He had put his leg in the bath tub, knowing the parasite would enjoy the water for as long as it could have it.

Ranza lifted his eyes at the gentle knock on his door, waiting with quiet anxiety as it opened. Two captains stepped inside, an underling shutting the door behind them. He recognized them from before; it was the tall one with her hair braided down the front, and the other that was bitchy and short, both in stature and in temper.

"Good morning," the taller one smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Considering the alternative," Ranza straightened. "I'm doing quite well. What do you want?"

"Show a little respect." the shorter one snipped.

Ranza then noticed the shorter one had a red band on her arm. She had slain an Espada. Why hadn't he seen it before? Now that he thought about it, so had the one with bells in his hair, and the one wearing the pink jacket. What else had he overlooked?

"I am Unohana of Fourth Squad, and this is Soifon-taichou of Second Squad. We would just like to ask you some questions." She had the air about her of a Stepford wife, bordering on the creepy as to how kind she seemed. Soifon only scowled at him.

"I'd offer you a seat on the bed, but," Ranza attempted to be somewhat hospitable.

"That's quite all right."

"Would you like the chair at least?"

"No, thank you." good grief did she ever stop smiling? In any case, the two captains were satisfied to sit on the floor, their legs tucked beneath them. "I'll do my best not to keep you too long."

"I'm not going anywhere. So what else did you want to know?"

"We're particularly interested in the three Arrancar you mentioned, the ones who were in control of Las Noches."

"Ah yeah, the stooges." he nodded. "Well, it's kind of a long story...or do you just want the essentials?"

"Whatever you would like to tell us, please do." Unohana made a requesting hand gesture, a simple one.

"Okay. They go by several different names, but they choose to be called Ciego, Azar, and Valia. Ciego is more or less the one in charge."

"Are there Fraccion?" Soifon asked.

"Yeah, a few. Ciego has the most, four of them the last I checked. Azar has one and so does Valia. Ciego's are the only ones with names."

"Could you name them, please? We'll be putting all of this on record."

"Their quadruplets, let me think," he rubbed and picked at the stubble on his chin. "Judecca is the eldest...then it's...Ptolomaea, Antenora, and then Caina is the youngest. By that I mean the order they became aware."

"I see." Unohana nodded.

"What about their powers?"

"I honestly don't know much as far as the Fraccion go, but...those three are sort of a special case. Their real strength comes from working in unison."

"Why is that?" Unohana seemed very curious.

"They were created from a single Hollow. Somehow Aizen managed to make three from one. Those three were some of the first he ever made."

"And what of these other names you mentioned?"

"Just a couple really. Funny thing, Aizen kind of named them for the reasons he deemed them failures."

"Failures?" Soifon lifted an eyebrow.

"He couldn't use them so he banished them; they were three out of seven mistakes he made. Ciego he named Pride, Valia is Envy, and Azar is Greed."

"Fascinating." Unohana whispered. "And there are four others?"

Ranza nodded. "Aizen often called them the Sins...his sins, really. I know of them, but I don't know too much about them. The best I could tell you is why Aizen threw 'em away."

"Please do." Soifon insisted, her tone still rather sharp.

"Well, to be honest there isn't much to it. Those three he just couldn't use without their cooperation, which he just couldn't get. Then there's marmota niño here," he tilted his head to Largo still sound asleep. For once he wasn't snoring loud enough to wake the dead. "He was just too lazy. But that's how he was when he was alive. At least that's what he's told me. Surprised he remembers really."

"Could we get back on track?" Soifon nipped, sounding somewhat frustrated, like this was the last thing she wanted to be doing.

"Sure," Rnaza gave the impatient captain a shrouded dirty look. "Let me think, then there was Lust. I can only imagine why Aizen threw him out. As far as what he's capable of, I honestly couldn't tell you. All seven of them were out of the palace by the time I came along."

"And who else?" Unohana asked.

Ranza had to fight back the urge to gag. "Then there was Bordell, often called Gluttony. What I _do_ know about him only comes from rumors, but from what I hear, thing's damn disgusting; Aizen banished him simply because he was so dangerous to everyone and everything."

"Goodness, why?"

"Never seen him, and Aizen wouldn't tell." Ranza shook his head. "I could imagine if it scared old bushel breeches he must be bad mojo."

"That was six," Soifon crossed her arms. "What of the seventh?"

Ranza shrugged, hunching forward and putting his elbows on his knees. "Wrath." he took a moment before continuing. "Wrath is...well, to be completely truthful, Wrath was the first. She was Aizen's first attempt at creating Arrancar."

Both of the captains seemed startled by the fact.

"I've only seen Wrath once. Aizen used Wrath as a rite of passage for the Espada; if we could defeat her, or survive for so long, we were given a spot on the totem pole. I can assure you," Ranza was sure he had their full attention, eye contact. "There's never been another creature, living or dead, as dangerous as that."

Soifon didn't appear bothered by this information. "Where can we find them?"

"I don't know, for the most part. Bordell I would sooner leave be, and Lust could be anywhere. But Wrath lives in the south reaches of Hueco Mundo, in the petrified forest."

"What about release forms?" Soifon asked.

"I don't think the first three even have one. If they do, I've never seen it. As far as the others, I just don't know. Bordell, from the rumors, is powerful enough on his own that he may not use it. And Lust..." and he shook his head.

Unohana nodded and Soifon remained still. "What of the little one?"

"All you have to worry about with him is snoring. He'll never admit it, but sawing logs is an understatement." he laughed a little. "and overdosing on sugar. Kid's a sucker for candy."

"So, tell me," Unohana began. "How are these 'sins' different from the other Arrancar?"

"Aizen didn't have the Hogyoku to focus their spirit energy after their masks were broken. He tried to get what he wanted out of them without having the proper tools, so they're much more raw...if that makes any sense. If their personalities didn't get in the way, they would have made perfect Espada. Their power is controlled, but it's unfocused and at full blast all the time. Wrath," he paused to take a breath. "Her reiatsu is so...it comes off of her in a red mist. If memory serves, it irritates the eyes, can even cause temporary blindness. It's most potent with men."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know." he shook his head. "I think she can spit fire, too, I'm not sure on that one, though."

Again the captains nodded.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few personal questions." Still the ever graceful, frighteningly polite amazon woman. If she didn't totally creep him out, Ranza could see himself liking Unohana very easily. "I would very much like to know the properties of your release form. I have seen it, but I know little of your abilities, so..."

"You want to know more?" Ranza smirked. "If your boy will come out of the madness?"

"Goodness, can you read me that easily?" Unohana laughed a little. "But yes, please."

"He should be fine. Gusano didn't look at him for very long. Another ten seconds...not so much. Give him a week and he should come out of it; mind you he'll probably need therapy and never want to see another fish for the rest of his life."

"That's comforting to know." she nodded. "What else?"

"Worm's more of a handicap than my false leg, really, gives me a huge weak spot right out in the open. Still, most of my movements and thoughts translate through him, give him orders. He moves faster and reaches further than me so I tend to let him handle things. He can use Cero...water stream...pukes up chum, that about covers it. I can form harpoons out of spirit energy. That's the long and the short of it, really."

"I have heard that Gusano is sentient, that he lives in your prosthesis. Is that true?"

"Yup. He's in the tub if you'd prefer to look for yourself." and he pointed with his thumb towards the bathroom.

"No, no," she laughed, blushing. "I'm afraid night crawlers give me the willies."

Soifon looked at her fellow captain as if she had just bore witness to a tremendous scandal. The mighty Unohana disheartened by worms? It couldn't be!

"One more question and we will leave you be."

"Sure."

"How is it you became heir to the throne?"

Ranza scratched his head. Somehow he knew this was coming. Oh well. "Barragan made a deal with Aizen; in exchange for his allegiance, Aizen was to make him an heir."

Unohana noticed how dark his expression became and felt now was the time to wrap things up. She stood up, brushing the wrinkles in her clothing.

"Thank you so much for your cooperation." she gave him that too sweet smile again and headed for the door. Soifon stood and looked at him.

"You're now allowed to leave the barracks, however I wouldn't advise going very far." She sounded like she'd never been happy, or laid, a day in her life. Yep, that corncob was pretty tightly wedged.

"Thanks for the advice, soy sauce."

"My name is Soifon," she ground out, her fists tightening.

"Okay, soy joy, got it."

"_Soifon_!"

"Becky?"

To avoid being arraigned for strangling the Arrancar, Soifon quickly left. Ranza couldn't help but laugh a little, her being miffed was strangely entertaining.

Sure, now he could get up and go, but he totally didn't feel like it. He gathered Largo up and set him down on the floor, knowing the kid wouldn't much care. He than laid down on the bed and finally allowed himself to sleep.

_(III)_

Dorian was a very capable creature. He had been one of the last of Aizen's sins, so he was a little more together than the others. He had been created with a skeleton with the properties of cartilage, allowing him to bend in rather inhuman ways. However, it wasn't this particular talent that he used to enter Seireitei. He came in on the thunderstorm.

In his release form, Atonito, Lust was able to move swiftly from place to place unseen, but only as the lightning strikes. It's also only during this brief blink of a moment that he can be seen. Still, regardless of wards or barriers, Lust was able to enter and exit any place of his choice.

Dorian had crept about Seireitei through the shadows of late afternoon, the eastern side of every structure providing him with a hiding place. Should a company of Shinigami move too close, he would use another of his powers...

He would touch the Shinigami and give them a small shock, just enough to put them down for a little while, and then study their face. Study it, until he could faithfully recreate it as his own. After that, blending in was a simple task.

When the time was right he broke away, heading for what looked to be the center of operations in Soul Society. It was the dead of night so he was able to move with ease, especially since the night had proven quite cloudy. Dorian climbed his way up and down the many roofs and landings, becoming familiar with each room within every window. He chose to stake out one that might have been considered risky. It was near the front of the building, near the ground floor where one could be easily discovered. That was all well and good. Dorian's hearing was good enough. So he lay on the landing above the window, his body as flat as his bones would allow, and he listened.

"I want you to take a small detachment to the mortal world and bring Urahara to me. I want to question him." it the voice of an old man, a very old man.

"I'll leave right away." Another man, younger, but not by very far.

This sparked Dorian's curiosity. This Urahara must have been someone important if Soul Society was interested in him...not to mention it had been quite a while since he'd visited the mortal realm. The Arrancar carefully navigated down to the ground, finding another Shinigami to mimic. With that done he watched as a small multitude of people came out, listening for the same voice. He found it in a tall, long haired man with a pink, flower patterned coat.

Without appearing to be too suspicious, Dorian was able to follow the captain and his small group of underlings, stepping into the ranks at the very last second as a senkaimon was opened and they began to file through it. Once on the other side he slipped out of sight, taking to a dark alley and peeking around the corner to watch where the Shinigami went.

When they came back out again there was another man with them, one with blonde hair and a hideous hat almost covering his eyes. Dorian looked at him just long enough to remember his face, he would surely use it later.

Lust would remain still and out of sight until almost night fall. Knowing that neither the Shinigami nor the blond man had returned, he shifted his shape one more time, striding guiltlessly on wooden clogs to enter the shop.

"Good evening, sir," Tessai greeted from behind the counter. "Glad to see you're okay."

"Same here." he tipped his hat.

"What did they want?"

"Nothing much, just twenty questions really." he laughed. "I'm going to turn in."

"Awful early." Tessai mentioned.

"Just a little worn out...call it a case of the blahs." he was trying hard to cut the talk and get away from him.

"Are you sick?" the giant of a man asked with concern.

"No, I think I'm okay. Good night." he watched as Tessai nodded and went about the nightly sweeping. With no small sigh of relief Dorian slipped into the back rooms, to where Urahara must have slept. He had passed the basement, feeling a tiny tingle of reiatsu as he did, but he was quickly sidetracked as he stepped into the next room.

This Urahara had it _so_ good.

"Oh, you're back." Yoruichi was standing on the threshold of the bathroom, drying her hair, a white robe just barely staying around her. "Hope you don't mind, I took a shower."

"Oh, not at all, dearest, not at all." Dorian felt the smile on his face grow wide. He was only a man, after all.

"So what did they want?"

"Just wanted to ask me a few things. Apparently there's been some Arrancar activity in Hueco Mundo recently."

"No kidding? Anything serious?"

"It's too early to tell." he shook his head, taking off his yukata and letting it pile on the floor. Part of him was surprised he could focus enough to answer her, his mind being almost completely fixed, along with his eyes, on her body.

"You don't think they know about our friends upstairs, do you?" Yoruichi didn't seem to show genuine concern as she unfurled a plush bedroll.

"I don't think so." Dorian didn't know what she was referring to, but he didn't much care at that moment. He took of his hat, set it with the yukata, and decided it might be a good idea if he brushed his teeth. Wouldn't want to repel the vixen with bad breath. He quickly did so, noticing his reflection. His imitations were always damn near perfect, with the tiny yet telling exception of his beauty mark. Even his Hollow hole disappeared while copying someone, but the mole always stayed. With this fresh in his mind, he was sure to switch off all the lights before lying down next to that gorgeous, dark skinned goddess. It wasn't ten seconds later that he lost his will and allowed his hands to work of their own accord.

Dorian felt himself grinning oh so wide as his mind filled with images, both sedate and extreme. This had to be his favorite, if not most useful power; through touch, he could see into someone's deepest, darkest sexual desires. The more he could see, the stronger the illusion of his face, right down to the last freckle.

"Kisuke," Yoruichi sighed, feeling his fingers pressing between her legs. Her hips churned, the bubbled curve of her butt grinding into his waiting erection.

"That's a girl," he purred. "Let me show you a good time,"

Dorian brought her fantasies to life, giving her exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it. He found himself almost giddy with the desires he saw in her, so simple and yet it was nothing he had done with his previous conquests. Many of the women wanted slow and sweet, Envy had wanted athletic and wild, Yoruichi appeared to like being forced to submit. He was going to _love_ this.

Using the sash from her robe, he was able to tie her hands at the wrist, now needing only one hand to hold her down. She laughed in delight. He touched her in all the right places, making her wet and ready in record time.

"Stop making me wait," she panted.

"Now, now, I'm the one in charge here," he rolled her onto her stomach and then lifted her against him. Her arms bent at the elbow to hook behind his head. One hand clutched at her plentiful breast as the other curled between her legs once again, sliding gently over her belly with the slickness of sweat. Dorian made her climax just once, making sure she was good and ready to take him. He pressed down on her hips, forcing her legs further apart. He took her in one fierce thrust, a sharp cry ripping from her mouth.

"Kisuke!"

He growled and bit her ear, finding a rough but steady pace. Her hands remained behind his head and his hands tightly gripped both breasts.

Dorian's stamina allowed for a solid hour of play, an hour of different positions, an hour of carnal indulgence. They ended in the most devout of submissive poses, with a slight variance. The sash still holding her wrists was tightly held between his teeth as he gripped her hips, pulling her onto his cock until she came again, and he finished quickly after. He untied her, like a good sport, and she quickly fell to sleep after they had settled beneath the blankets.

That was so much fun, he mused as he dozed off.

Morning came and Yoruichi was still fast asleep. It was too early for the shop to be open just yet, so Dorian thought it the perfect opportunity to check on the reiatsu he sensed from the basement. He dressed quietly and then left the room.

"Urahara,"

Dorian was startled by the voice from the stairs. Some blonde woman he certainly wouldn't be ashamed of banging just once. "Morning, did I wake you?"

"No, you didn't. I noticed Shinigami came to the store yesterday, what did they want?" Halibel asked, not sounding the least bit suspicious.

"Nothing really. Just a few questions."

"I see. What about?"

"Some Arrancar that managed to get inside Soul Society. No big deal,"

"No big deal?" Halibel lifted an eyebrow.

Before Dorian could answer the bell above the store door chimed. Both of them turned to see something neither expected.

"Did I miss something?" the real Urahara wondered, his eyebrows arched in surprise.

Halibel looked back and no longer saw what she thought had been Urahara, but now saw the real face of the imposter. He jerked himself forward, kissed her on the mouth, then vaulted down into the basement.

"Coyote!" Halibel shouted, giving chase down the stairs. She practically leaped from the top step and would've crashed right onto Dorian's shoulders. He shifted just right, using her momentum against her as he twisted, tossing her hard into a stack of wooden crates that practically exploded into wooden slivers.

Dorian found the source of the reiatsu, the gem sitting silently in its cradle at the far end of the room. Something in him just told him to pilfer it, and he was never one to disobey his first thought. It was only two strides and he had it in his hands.

Starrk had made it into the room by now and went headfirst towards Dorian. Normally he would've just blown him away with a barrage of cero, but there was no having that. Dorian put the jewel between his teeth and met Starrk, leading him in circles by the hair before grabbing him too firmly about the nipples and lifting him up.

This, Starrk thought faintly, was hurting more than he thought it would.

Dorian waggled his eyebrows before sending a charge through his hands and into Starrk's body. Starrk's body shook hard with the amps coursing through him, finally letting out a long winded shout before Dorian dropped him.

"You loved it," Dorian laughed before opening a garganta.

Halibel finally managed to stand. Without a second thought she ran after Dorian, through the garganta with no never mind as to where it went. Urahara, seeming to have just popped out of nowhere, quickly followed. And just before it close, Starrk was able to reconstitute himself and join the chase.

When they came out the other side, Dorian was nowhere to be found, and they were smack dab in the middle of Soul Society. A host of Shinigami had seen them come through, including a handful of vice-captains and Kuchiki-taichou.

"Well...crap." was all Urahara could say.

_(IV)_

Hueco Mundo was ten times as creepy in the dead of night, a crescent moon the only source of light. The air was quieter than a tomb.

Largo had lead Rukia and Ichigo here through the garganta, bringing them to the south reaches where the Ijin-ono was ordered to send them. Just the three of them? Oh yes. This wasn't meant to be an offensive, just observational. Upon learning of the Sins unaccounted for, the high brass decided it best to account for them, starting with the worst of the worst.

"That's weird," Largo said as they topped the dunes.

"What's wrong, little man?" Ichigo looked down at him.

"Look," he lifted his hand, pointing.

"What about it? It's just a forest, right?"

"No, something isn't right," he shook his head slowly.

Largo was troubled by the lack of mist coming from the forest. Yes, there was a slight crimson haze to the skeletal treetops, but the woods were otherwise clear. That was not normal considering the recent trend.

"I'm willing to agree," Rukia added. "Something feels...odd. Let's hurry." and she went at a brisk pace down the sandy mound.

Ichigo honestly didn't know what they were so worried about, but went along with it anyway. The closer they drew to the border of trees, the heavier the air became. Largo, much to the surprise of the Shinigami, only appeared concerned, not at all frightened like they would have expected. By the sounds of the report, the Arrancar inhabiting these woods was bad, bad news. Why wouldn't anyone be afraid? There were brief moments when Rukia wished a captain had accompanied them just for the added sense of safety.

They crossed within the treeline and the spiritual pressure in the air became almost crushingly apparent. Their shoulders sagged slightly under its weight. With as little sound as possible they made their way deeper and deeper, the shadows of the petrified trees blending together as they grew long in the moonlight. Why did it feel like someone was watching?

"Where could it be, Largo? Is there any particular place?"

"This whole forest," he said, watching the treetops. "It stretches no less than a mile in any direction. It's all hers."

"This could take days," Ichigo growled in frustration. "There's gotta be a way to speed this up. What about a den? It's gotta have a shelter around here."

"Oh yeah, I know where that is." Largo nodded. "It's not too far from here."

The Shinigami followed him another few hundred yards, topping a small hill that lead into a hollow of sorts, a small dip in the forest floor, but Largo paused as he looked down into it. He looked crestfallen.

Trees, hundreds of them, were broken and fallen, lying on the ground in stone shards and pieces. Large swaths of them were toppled. In the heart of the hollow was the remains of the den, a collection of the trees that had been forced in on themselves to form a pile.

Largo hurried down, the Shinigami close behind. The little Arrancar tried with all his heart to try and lift several of the gigantic logs, but he simply didn't have the brute strength to do so. As the came close, Rukia and Ichigo noticed a little color among the bleached white bones of trees.

"I don't think it's blood." Rukia looked at the crimson smudges that were smeared across several logs. "Too dark...it doesn't smell the same."

"Smells like smoke...ashes," Ichigo added. "What the hell is this stuff?"

"I don't know," Rukia looked to Largo, hoping he would answer. He only looked quite sad, like he'd lost his best friend. "What could have done all this?"

"Wrath would never," Largo sniffed. "This was her home."

"Then who?"

Largo only shook his head, unable to answer.

"Hey," Ichigo's voice came in a hushed whisper. "You smell that?"

Rukia took a sniff, finding something that wasn't there before. "Smoke?"

Ichigo only nodded.

Rukia felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle, the reiatsu that permeated this place growing suddenly much heavier. She then looked at her feet, seeing a thick red mist roiling around them as if it were alive. The mist came from a point of origin, not just carried in from nowhere. Rukia followed the flow to its source.

"Oh shit," Ichigo cursed. "So much for us observing _it_."

From the distance they were away the could not tell how tall the Arrancar stood, only that it was indeed quite tall. The lunar light coming from behind it outlined a savage silhouette of unkempt fur, bone, and claws that were no less than nine inches in length and jagged edged. A single amber eye, glowing and wicked, shone in the darkness of its own shadow.

"Get ready to run," Rukia cautioned.

"Something's wrong," Largo said in deep concern, turning to face the hill.

Wrath crouched, its head still high, its one eye glaring, then it sprang straight upward. Like a saw blade it spun in the air, falling only a few feet before disappearing in puff of more red smoke.

"What the fuck?" Ichigo snapped.

"Grab Largo and go!" Rukia felt the flux in spirit energy when Wrath disappeared, and knew it would come again just before she rematerialized. Ichigo scooped up the little Arrancar and carried him away under one arm. He had to fight the urge to turn back when he heard bone collide with steel.

Rukia quickly drew her zanpaktou at the flux to catch Wrath bringing both claws down. Wrath pressed harder and harder against her, as if trying to shove her straight into the ground. Rukia was able to get a much closer look, as close as the midnight moonlight would offer her. Bleached white bones forming the grimace of an enraged bear, one fragmented socket to reveal the golden eye so full of fury. Fangs hung down and bony triangles folded downward for ears. In the shadow of the mask was what appeared to be the bottom portion of a human face, but the fur was so thick around the neck it was impossible to tell. All Rukia knew was that terrible noises were coming out of it, growls and snarls. The bottom of the bear's jaw was set with several sharp teeth, two of them shaped like sabers on either end, and it was connected loosely to the top by a chain that wove once around the neck and was set into the bone near the cheeks of the bear's face.

Rukia could see the stout arms forcing her closer to the ground, could see bands of steel around them, and from the broad shoulders the arms were hidden in furred gauntlets that held the roughly hewn claws. Those would not cut you cleanly.

Before she could take no more, Rukia twisted, shifting her feet to turn completely around. She parried the claws downward and then cut in an upwards arc, cutting Wrath from hip to shoulder along the side. Surprise filled her as red mist came spilling, no, blasting out of the open wound, right into her face. She couldn't help but cover her eyes, feeling them start to burn and sting. Her heart started to pound, her adrenaline rushing, seemingly by itself. She was then struck hard in the chin, went flying through the air, and landed hard into a pile of toppled trees.

Wrath quickly turned away from the still Shinigami, waited the few seconds it took for the wound to close, then dropped to all fours and chased after the one who fled.

Ichigo kept running, not looking back, not slowing down in spite of what his guts were telling him to do. He had every mind to drop the kid and go back, take the monster head-on. In the end he lost the fight with common sense and followed his instincts. He set Largo down, told him to stay put, and then drew his sword. He quickly turned, heading back to help Rukia.

Wrath was there to meet him.

Author's Note: I know my understanding and time line of the show and the comic are crap, but I'm doing the best I can. I really don't feel like watching or reading it, but somehow I managed to fall in love with some of the characters anyway. Just, forgive me for any fandom I ruin and just enjoy it for what it is.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Nine**

"_Now turn your back and cover your eyes, for if the Gorgon comes and you should see her, there would be no returning to the world!" The Inferno: Canto IX, verse 55-57_

Ranza steadily woke to the sound of someone's voice. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and blinked until he could see clearly. He saw plentiful teal hair and a reddened mark across a soft featured face.

"Nel," he smiled. "Morning."

"Afternoon." she corrected. "You feeling okay?"

"Not too shabby, I guess. I've got a nasty case of cotton mouth and my left butt cheek is numb. Other than that I'm all right." Ranza sat up, pushing himself until he could rest against the wall behind the bed.

"Do you need anything?"

Ranza started to shake his head but paused. "Where's the squirt?"

"The Ijin-ono asked for his help, don't worry, he's fine." Nel assured him.

"The whosie-whatsis?"

"Anti-Arrancar fan club." she simplified it for him.

"Oh, okay, gotcha." he nodded. "So where is he?"

"I'm not sure, I'm not exactly privy to what goes on in those meetings. Not unless they need me for something."

"Oh, I get it." he nodded again, smirking. "So that's how it is then? We're ignored until we're useful again?"

"It's not like that," Nel protested.

"Okay, so we just sell each other out,"

"No," she insisted.

"Then what is it? Try and explain it to me so I _don't_ feel like a screwed pooch."

"What do you care, Ranza? For the last-what?-twenty years, all you've cared about is yourself and getting back at Nnoitra."

"Because I thought he took you from me!" He stared holes into the foot of the bed, or maybe it was his stump. Nel noticed this, changing her train of thought almost immediately.

"Does it hurt?" she asked somewhat cautiously.

Ranza sighed after a moment, his brow still tight in the middle. "Sometimes. Not as much as this does, though," he put a palm to his chest, just over his heart. "I didn't spend all that time just thinking about me...or Nnoitra. All I could think about most of the time was you."

Nel could feel herself blush, but she fought it. "Ranza...you were the only one who never tried to kill me, the only one I didn't have to worry about, but..."

"But what? What's the matter? Why 'but'?"

"You're Barragan's heir," she shook her head. "I don't want what comes with that."

"I don't want it either! Did you miss the memo?"

"What memo?"

"It's a figure of speech, darling," he put his face in his hands, exasperated. "Listen. The day I thought you died, I was coming to take you with me. We were going to disappear and live our own lives. Just you and me. I mean that."

"What?"

"I guess you don't remember." he looked at her, somewhat sad. "You would always tell me how you wished you could get away from Aizen, from everything he'd done. I did a lot of thinking, realizing that it's what I wanted too, but I knew I couldn't do it alone. I didn't want to. So I planned to take you with me. I never wanted the throne, I didn't want anything to do with Barragan or Aizen. I just wanted to be with you."

Nel felt her heart lurch in a very peculiar way. Had it been like this all along? Had she distanced herself from him all this time for no reason? It was true, she had never bothered to ask about his feelings, yet he had been there to hear what was on her heart. She was beginning to feel rather silly, if not downright selfish.

"I guess...I guess I just had trouble believing it when you said it before. So...how did you get out of Aizen's prison? "

"Would you believe it? Tosen set me free."

"What?"

"Said something about 'needing to find my own justice', I dunno, it was some time ago. In any case...that's history."

Nel nodded, saying nothing.

"Now, please tell me Largo isn't by himself?"

"Oh no, no," Nell shook her head and waved her hands back and forth. "Ichigo and Rukia-san are with him."

"Who are they? I certainly would appreciate knowing more about my buddy's babysitters." he sounded a little put off, not liking that someone just snagged the little fellow while he slept.

"Both of them are members of Ijin-ono. They're good, strong people, Ranza."

"That's nice to know. Is that what the red bands are, then?"

Nel nodded. "It's also to show that they killed an Espada."

"No shit? Who'd they nail?"

"Aaroniero and Ulquiorra."

"Fuck me runnin'," he exclaimed. "I'll be damned. On their own?"

"More or less, yes."

Ranza ran his hand through his hair, mussing it even more. "I guess I've got nothing to worry about then, do I?"

Nel bit her bottom lip, like he'd just asked a question she probably shouldn't answer. "Not...necessarily."

"What do you mean? Nel? What aren't you telling me?" He turned to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to make sure if that was guilt in her eyes or something else. "Where did they go?"

When she didn't answer, Ranza feared the worst. "They didn't...they did, didn't they? Squiddy!"

"Ranza, wait,"

"Oh, no," he pulled himself to the foot of the bed, using the post to stand up as his false leg was pulled out of the tub and dragged across the tiles by the parasite. He picked it up and shoved it into place. "They're out of their damn minds!" And Ranza hobbled as quickly as he could out of the room, Nel catching up to him.

Ranza made his way outside, not really hearing all of the reasons Nel was giving him to calm down and let her explain. Nope, he wouldn't have it. What he _would_ have, if he had his way, would be a captain's head on a plate.

_(II)_

"Don't kill her!" Largo begged as he watched Ichigo battle tooth and nail with Wrath.

"I may not have a choice!"

It was taking everything Ichigo had in him to keep up with the savage Arrancar. She would constantly blink in and out of sight, leaving clouds of red mist in her wake, attacking out of nowhere. The crimson fog was starting to irritate him and his eyes, making him more irritable, more angry. His clothing was in shreds, his skin littered with cuts and scrapes and gashes.

"Come on, stop hiding!" he shouted, only to receive a harsh blow to the back of his head. He stumbled, almost falling on his sword before scrambling to stand back up. Wrath was nowhere to be seen, a heavy haze hanging in the air where she once was.

"Where'd it go?"

Largo only shook his head.

"Ichigo, where are you?"

He turned at the sound of Rukia's voice. "Over here!" He ran to her, having noticed her stumbling from the support of one tree to another. "What's wrong?"

"I can't see," the skin around her eyes was reddened and bruised, swollen. There was some blood around her mouth and her chin was split open. "It burns."

"How did it happen?"

"I cut it and red mist came out, got me in the face." she gripped Ichigo's sleeve, finding his arm a steadier support.

"We've got to get out of here." Ichigo shook his head. "It's going to take more than just the two of us to get rid of this thing."

"Ichigo, there's something else here," Rukia gripped him a little tighter. "Someone else in the forest."

"What?"

There was a horrible roar that echoed through the wood, and in no time it was filled with mist, the fog was waist high.

"Stay here with Largo," Ichigo helped her until she took the Arrancar's hand. Just as he let go, he felt her hand connect hard against his face. "Jesus, what was that for?"

"You asshole!" she shouted.

Ichigo raised his fist as if to strike her, feeling suddenly oh-so pissed off at her.

"Guys, stop! This is what the mist does, it makes you mad!" Largo shook Rukia, pulling her back just in case Ichigo couldn't stop himself.

"Why doesn't it affect you?" Ichigo lowered his hand.

"Because I'm too lazy." he simply replied. "But something is making her act like this! I mean, yeah, she's always mad, but not like this."

"Then there has to be someone else here," Ichigo looked over the next hill, where the mist was coming from.

"That is what I just said, cluster-fuck!" Rukia spat. "Would you listen to me once in a while?"

"You should hurry up," Largo said to him.

He didn't need to any more convincing, quickly disappearing in the haze.

"You have a temper, don't you?" Largo asked gently.

"You think!"

He cringed at the harshness of her voice, and without another word began to lead her out of the forest. He hoped Ichigo would make it out on his own.

Ichigo topped the hill and looked down the other side. There was Wrath, trading blows with someone else, someone seemingly all white carrying a saber. It reminded him of the Espada and their colorless uniforms. Could that be one of the Arrancar mentioned at the meeting earlier? Or was it just a Fraccion? Ichigo made his way quickly down, wanting to see for himself.

It was Caina. He was the one destroying the forest, and was now trying to murder its keeper. His clothing was tattered and sliced to tatters, his body bloodied, yet he seemed to thrive off of the mist. It didn't appear to irritate his eyes like it did to others. Not to mention he seemed able to handle Wrath with an efficiency Ichigo could never muster. It was as if the Fraccion had done this times before. Was he getting bigger?

Ichigo, in his infinite wisdom, leaped headlong into the fight that wasn't his. Wrath snarled at the sight of him, and Caina paused only a moment. The Fraccion saw the Shinigami as an inconvenience, and thought to quickly remove him.

Ichigo found himself trying to fight two Arrancar at once, which was no easy task for anyone. Wrath sliced open the back of his right thigh while Caina threatened to pierce him through the heart. With Zangetsu's broader blade, deflecting the Fraccion was fairly simple compared to the seemingly impossible task of protecting his rear, which could be ripped from him at any second if he didn't think of something.

So he thought of something. At just the right moment he twisted his body counter clockwise, moving in unison with the swipe of Wrath's claws and Caina's blade. Upon returning to his original place, Ichigo stretched out his arm, striking Caina in the face with the back of his fist, shattering the center of his mask. Then his left leg thrust backwards, hitting Wrath in the chest hard enough to put the Arrancar on the ground.

It was quiet for a moment, then there was laughter.

Caina stood, smiling from ear to ear now that he could. Since his creation he had waited for this moment.

"Slay," he said, "Pedrisco Gigante."

An upward whirl of freezing cold wind came from Caina's feet. It covered him in white powder and ice, increasing his frame in girth and height. Ichigo stepped back, feeling the chill to his very bones. Wrath was still, crouched on all fours and watching.

When the blizzard died, Caina remained, but he no longer resembled himself. He was a hulking thing, broad shouldered and brutish. His knuckles dragged the ground as his torso was too heavy to hold upright. Large horns had sprouted from beneath his hair, and tusks erupted from his bottom jaw. The Fraccion had become some form of ice Oni.

"Oh, fuck me."

Caina took a handful of the front of Ichigo's uniform and hoisted him up off the ground, giving him a good toss over the hill he had just come. What Ichigo wasn't able to see was how Caina's size increased once he struck ground, hearing a nasty crack come out of his shoulder. The oni thrived on pain, mainly that of others. Like the origin of his name, Caina was all about causing pain, and he liked it.

Wrath cared little for his new shape and strength, the intent to kill didn't change. This thing had invaded the forest, _her _forest, and that brought on severe consequences. All Wrath could see was red, all she could think was _kill_.

Ichigo writhed at the sharp pain coursing through him. When he managed to his feet he set Zangetsu to rest on his back. The attention was away from him so he thought it best to draw back, come back again, but with greater numbers. He navigated through the mist, finding his way closer and closer to the edge of the wood from which they had come. Just a few more yards...

The ground began to shake. Violently.

Ichigo had to stop and look what was coming up from behind. Up from a cover of crimson fog ascended the torso of Pedrisco Gigante, now reaching nearly fifty feet high if not more. The towering demon began to level more of the forest with large swipes of his arms, some trees reduced to dust. Ichigo could see the small form of Wrath scrambling up from his hind quarters, claws digging deep into the icy hide as she reached the top of his head. Using a strand of colorless hair, Wrath dashed about to his face, finding a stable hold before stabbing the left eye over and over, ripping it from the socket. A howl of the pain stretched across the wastes of Hueco Mundo, icy blood rushing out of the fresh wound. The oni thrashed and gripped at his face, finding Wrath and hurling her away with all the force he could muster. Then it gave chase, toppling more trees and crushing deep pits into the ground with its massive heels.

Ichigo sprinted his way out of the woods, anything to get out of the giant's path. It was coming up fast, almost too fast for his comfort. He spotted Largo on a not too distant dune waving him down, turning quickly to make swift ground towards them. Just as he came to the foot of the dune, something came bounding over another mound of sand only a short distance away. It was Wrath. To his surprise she ignored him completely, instead keeping her tunnel vision on the giant ruining her forest. Easily vaulting twenty-five feet or more, the Arrancar launched herself towards the ice oni, clinging to its belly and beginning to tear it open like its eye.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Ichigo panted.

Largo nodded and reached out, touching that invisible place that allowed the garganta to rip space and open a doorway. Ichigo hoisted a still blind Rukia into his arms and dashed through the opening, snatching up Largo by his shirt so they could hurry a little faster than his leisurely jog.

"I can walk, damn it, I'm not a fucking cripple!" Rukia fumed, still suffering from the mist.

The three of them broke through to the other side of the portal, into Soul Society, just outside of Eight Squad's main building.

"Back so soon?"

Ichigo looked up to see Kyouraku-taichou sitting on the porch, and by the looks of it Nanao was trying to take his sake bottle away.

Ichigo would have explained if he hadn't noticed that the garganta had yet to close. He chanced to look over his shoulder just as something heavy crashed into him. He tried to get up, claws digging into his back. The weight came off and he hurried to his feet, seeing Wrath on all fours in front him, looking towards the still open garganta that was suddenly getting much bigger. Something else was on the verge of coming through.

_(–)_

Ranza found Byakuya Kuchiki, saw the red band on his arm, and knew he could verbally abuse him. If he was responsible for sending Largo into a death trap...

He pressed his way through a crowd of Shinigami, Nel still trying to dissuade him.

"Now listen here, dildo," Ranza fired off, his finger in Byakuya's face. "Who's brilliant friggin' idea was it to send my little buddy after the most emotionally, mentally, and physically unstable being in the damned universe? Yours? Soy bean? Patchy, the Jingle-headed Ass-pirate? Answer me, damn you!"

Byakuya grabbed Ranza's wrist and twisted it to the side. Ranza merely grimaced. He had weathered worse pain than this. "You will not speak to me in that manner. You will treat me with the respect I am due. You are but a guest in Soul Society, and you are coming dangerously close to wearing out your welcome." He released Ranza's wrist. The Arrancar shook it...not that it hurt. It just felt a little awkward, is all. "Now, to answer your question, it was not the choice of any one person to send your friend into Hueco Mundo. It was a vote posted before the Ijin-ono. But do not worry, he is being escorted by two very capable Shinigami: Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki, my sister."

Ranza didn't feel that much better. What _would_ make him feel better was if he were with Largo. Or if they were on a completely different planet than Wrath. Either one would do. "Ichigo's an awfully strange name for a woman."

"As amusing as that thought is, Ichigo Kurosaki is no woman."

"Oh, that makes more sense then..." Then it hit him. "A man?" Byakuya nodded. "You sent a _man_ against the Neo-Nuclear Femi-nazi? Didn't Captain Mom and Captain Tofu-for-brains hear a damn word I said? Wrath's powers work more potently on men, and she friggin' _hates_ men."

"This shouldn't be a problem," Byakuya said.

"Are you kidding? This is a serious fucking problem, you hair-crimped dumbass. If Wrath doesn't kill him, he'll end up killing that other girl. She makes people angry, and I'm not talking 'mad that it rained on your wedding' mad or 'someone else drank the last of the milk and didn't put it on the grocery list' mad or even 'someone forgot to put the toilet seat down' mad. I mean 'I will fucking kill you if I think your thinking about sneezing' mad."

"Ichigo Kurosaki won't fall prey to any parlor tricks this woman may have in store for him. I have seen him contend with far stronger foes before." Byakuya heard Ranza mutter "no you haven't..." under his breath, but chose to ignore it. "His Hollow powers make him a much stronger person than most would initially perceive."

"Wait, Hollow powers?"

"Yes, Kurosaki is a Vizard, a Shinigami with Hollow abilities."

"Oh, fuck me running," Ranza said, a hand to his forehead. "This is bad. You see, we Espada used Wrath for target practice back when Aizen was in charge. And I'm not entirely sure she can tell the difference between a Hollow with Shinigami powers and a Shinigami with Hollow powers. Do you realize what this means?"

"It means Kurosaki walked into the lion's den with a steak tied to his head," Halibel said.

"That's right," Ranza said. "That's exactly what that..." He turned his head and saw three familiar faces restrained by a contingent of Shinigami. "Wha...Snoozer? Lockjaw? Matahara?"

"Urahara," Nel whispered in his ear.

Ranza turned to her. "That's what I said."

"I don't really know what's going on here," Urahara said, "but I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face. I mean, you called Kuchiki-san a -snort- dildo!" He burst out laughing until Halibel elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just never heard someone call Kuchiki-san..." He struggled to hold in his laughter.

"Why am I Snoozer?" Starrk asked. Halibel gave him a look that shut him up.

"You know Urahara's companions?" Byakuya said, quick to get the subject away from the name-calling.

"Yeah, I know them," Ranza said. "They're..." Before Ranza could answer, he smelled a stinging, peppery hotness on the air. Then he felt the reiatsu. It was so familiar, so frightening, that at that point he would have gladly chopped off his other leg if only he would never have to feel this presence again.

Wrath had arrived.

"Okay, at this point, who they are doesn't matter. What matters is that you, me, Soy Joy, and every last nameless nobody in this entire _dimension_ are royal fucked." Urahara and Nel's eyes had also gone grave. Starrk and Halibel, however, didn't feel much more than a tickle in the back of their minds, a side effect of the ink Urahara used to seal their powers and mask their presence.

"This is Wrath's spiritual pressure?" Byakuya asked. He glanced sideways at the source of the energy. "Irregular, unstable, unfocused. She doesn't stand a chance. She must now contend with ten Captain-class Shinigami. Your assistance will not be..." Byakuya didn't have the chance to finish his thought. Ranza had grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to make sure Byakuya would not miss a single word.

"Let me put this in perspective, you stuck-up tightwad. Wrath was Aizen's first attempt to make an Arrancar himself. I may have said the Sins were Aizen's failures, but she wasn't. Aizen wanted to make an Arrancar fueled by pure rage and he succeeded all too well. She is fury incarnate. She is rage, power, relentless drive, and merciless hunger wrapped up into a seven-foot-tall bitch built like a tank and with enough raw strength to break the average man in two on pure reflex. You wanna know why Aizen banished her from Las Noches? Why he _really_ banished her? It wasn't because she was a failure, oh no; remember his little toy? Kyoka Suigetsu? Complete Hypnosis? It wouldn't work on her."

Byakuya's eyes widened. Ranza smiled a little. The Shinigami was beginning to realize that Wrath was nothing they had seen before. "She gives new meaning to the phrase 'blinded by rage.' All she sees is the next victim, the next target, the next kill, the next threat to her well-being. Are you beginning to see how boned we are? Aizen got rid of Wrath because he couldn't control her." Ranza stared right into Byakuya's eyes, and in them, Byakuya saw Ranza's battle with the monster. Saw her ferocity, madness, and utter lack of compassion. "Aizen got rid of her because he was afraid of her."

There was another flux of reiatsu, one no one recognized. The ground then began to shake with the rhythm of footsteps. Then it appeared over the many rooftops, taller and greater than it had been in its home world. Caina had entered Soul Society, and was already beginning to rampage through it, sparing nothing.

Byakuya drew his sword, shouting, "Assemble the Ijin-ono, rally all the squads!" and then blinked out of sight with a flash step.

Rangiku Matsumoto found her way through the scrambling multitude of Shinigami. She was looking past Ranza to speak to Nel. "What are we going to do with these three?"

"Take them somewhere safe, Ranza and I will help Kuchiki-taichou,"

"We will?" Ranza looked altogether surprised. "I can't do much of anything without my sword."

"You can still fire cero, can't you?"

"Of course I can, but-,"

"Then it will have to do." She nodded to Matsumoto before giving the command, "Declare,"

Ranza felt a shiver go up his back with the surge of spirit energy that came from Nel, taking half a step back when she emerged as Gamuza. She held out her hand to him. "Come on."

Ranza pulled himself astride Gamuza, holding on just tightly enough so he wouldn't fall as she vaulted to the rooftops and advanced towards the giant.

_(–)_

Shinigami from all over the Seireitei began to converge on the giant, yet were scattered by a single swing of his far-reaching arms. Caina punched a great hole into the ground, hoping to crush Wrath, but with his great size came a great lack of speed. The much smaller Arrancar gripped the giant's wrist and let him lift her up, bringing his hand near her face.

Ichigo set Largo and Rukia down, not realizing that Largo had fallen asleep in the last few minutes. As a second thought he moved the little fellow to a nearby porch, thinking he'd be a little safer there than in the middle of the street.

"Awfully big," Kyouraku tilted his hat back as he looked up. "It's a shame that fuzzy one up there doesn't come in the same size."

"Trust me, that's a good thing," Ichigo argued. "Every time this guy hurts somebody he gets bigger." In fact, he had gotten so large that it's body altogether had changed, now taking on the properties and shape of solid ice. Caina's body was now roughly hewn and jagged, pieces of him coming apart in shards as he was struck.

Rukia made a mad charge for the giant's ankles, thinking to strike at the roots and hinder his stability. It was almost painful to watch her just hacking insanely away at the monster, showing absolutely no skill.

Kyouraku's eyes widened. "What's her problem?"

"I'll explain later, right now let's focus on the eight-million pound gorilla," and he drew Zangetsu and joined in the fray.

"This is going to be a long day," Kyouraku sighed, and drew his longest blade. He looked up. "Ah, Kuchiki-san, nice of you to join us," to which he received no reply. "So serious," he shook his head.

Caina took a deep breath, ignoring Wrath as she ripped into his shoulder. He filled his lungs to capacity, then tilted his head back and exhaled hard up into the air. Moments later everything started to become cold, freezing actually, and then large hailstones and sleet came raining down. It crashed through roofs and walls, creating spider web craters in the ground. There was no safe place to hide from it.

Rukia sliced into the tendon at the back of the giant's leg, hacking it cleanly in two. Icy water came rushing from the wound, the giant no longer filled with blood. It washed over her, shoving her back several yards. When she sat up she could feeling the swelling in her face ease, the madness settle. She opened her eyes, now able to see completely. She shook off the cold and went right back into the fight, mindful of the stumbling titan and of the barrage of cero suddenly crashing into it.

Byakuya Kuchiki stood atop one of the roofs, his sword drawn. "_Bankai_," His sword began to shimmer, glow as he turned it to point the blade downward. He let go and it disappeared, reality rippling with its disappearance. Now was the time to kill the Arrancar, while it was on its knees, and lessen the risk of it toppling over in death to destroy even more than it had already. "Senbonzakura Kageyoshi," and thousands upon thousands of katana formed out of nothingness, surrounding the giant as it tried to stand again.

Ranza slid from Nel's back, steadying himself as he fired another volley of cero. He noticed the phantasmal array of blades surrounding Caina, saw how one by one they began to cut into the giant. He continued to hurl cero, joining in the last ditch effort to destroy the oni. Neliel went for the knees, obliterating them both into mere shards with her lance, severing Caina from his lower legs. The giant groaned and snarled, flailing his limbs and bringing down more hail and snow from a clear blue sky. He began to fall apart, little by little, in massive and icy chunks that made the earth shake when they fell.

Wrath had been thrown a second time, and crashed through the Eighth Squad barracks before stopping. She went right back to battle, taking to the roofs to reach it faster. From the one closest to Caina she vaulted, claws outstretched and poised. The last phantasmal blade cut across the oni's throat, frigid water gushing forth. Wrath fell with all the momentum and strength she had risen and pierced the heart, bursting wide open the chest cavity as she went straight through. Caina finally collapsed onto its side, slowly sputtering into expiration.

Unohana was approaching the battle with the remainder of the Ijin-ono. They had steadied their pace to less than running, having seen from afar the giant's tumble. It would seem that the threat was extinguished, but any Shinigami worth their weight in sense knew that things were rarely ever that simple. She could only imagine the horror and disbelief of those nearer the battle as the giant began moving again, his wounds sealing with freshly frozen water, his limbs recollection and healing. It had intent to continue its rampage.

Unohana felt a pulling at her heart. She knew that the Arrancar would fight so long as it lived, and by the looks of it, there was no killing it by physical means. Her mind was still echoing from the message sent by a Hell Butterfly from Yamamoto himself: "eliminate by any means necessary". The butterfly had gone directly to her, which added to her assumption that the captain-commander meant for her alone to receive the order.

"Surely there's someone with a strong enough flame to melt it," Kurotsuchi-san commented.

"That would not work." Soifon shook her head. "Even destroying it from the inside would not stop the damn thing."

"We must separate it from it's life force, or else it will simply keep coming." Unohana said firmly, a shocking tone for the normally so gentle Shinigami. In that instant she was gone, flash stepping until she reached the war zone. She looked up, seeing the oni's face and the wickedness etched across its cold features. In spite of this she still did not wish to go on with what she knew had to be done. She stood in the middle of the street, near the feet of the giant Arrancar, and then drew her sword. She turned the point of the blade towards the ground, placing her palms together along the blade as if in prayer. Her expression darkened, her brow tightened in the middle, and then she took a breath.

"Bankai."

The flux of reiatsu was amazing, everyone's head turning to see where it had come from. Those who had no courage ducked their heads, those who knew no better, looked on.

Unohana's shadow grew in front of her, stretching and pulling itself into shape. Then it lifted itself upward, curling like a serpent up the sword's blade and around its hilt. Unohana let it go, the weapon levitating there in front of her. The shadow surrounding it darkened, thickened, and then burst open with a _pwuff_, a figure stepping out of the mist. It was a priestly figure clad in a white robe, like the blade it seemed to float there, the hem of its clothes just touching the ground. Its face was covered in a white shroud, leaving just the chilling darkness of what should have been eyes visible. It's head was topped with a black cap suited for those of the priesthood.

Unohana began to draw a symbol in the air, the ghostly priest following every motion, its hands assembled from bone instead of flesh like its master. After the seal was complete her hands came together again, palm to palm, and she began to chant while going through a myriad of hand gestures she knew by heart, though she had only ever used them twice before. The priest copied faithfully everything Unohana did.

Once the preliminaries were complete, Unohana crossed her arms over her chest, and then thrust them outward. The priest did the same, only the cloak ripped itself open, revealing a darkness deeper than midnight within. Then there was a light that steadily grew where the priest's chest would have been. As it grew larger and larger, one could hear the screaming and the wailing of what lay within it. It was a portal, a portal to one of the many hells. The Bankai acted as the keeper of the gate, opening it at Unohana's will, and allowing the ruler that dwelled inside to pass through and collect what it wished.

All in attendance watched as something black, coiling, and terrible came whipping out of the opening within the priest's robe. Once it came into the light they could see it was white, from head to tail it was white as snow. It stretched higher and higher, still spiraling. It towered over Seireitei, casting its long, striking shadow, the Holy Dragon. A torrent of jet black hair framed the reptile's face, it's mouth tufted with a gray beard. A rosary of roiling flames and glowing spheres of blue and black orbited its neck, glowing wildly like its eyes.

The Dragon leveled its head with the oni that still had yet to find a steady footing. With a rage filled snarl the demon reached for the Dragon with its icy claws. Just before the fingers curled around its neck, Unohana brought her palms together one last time, thrusting both hands forward and shouting, "Misogi no Ichi: Ryu-oh!"

With its jaws open wide the Holy Dragon snapped its body to straighten, becoming suddenly semi-corporeal and flying right through the oni, coming out the other side with the rosary about its neck now burning crimson and white. It quickly coiled and descended, passing through the open gate, returning to add a new soul to its realm of screaming. The oni began to shrink, returning back to its original shape, the now soulless Caina who collapsed dead to the ground.

Unohana brought her hands to her chest, the priest closing its robe. Then _pwuff_, it was once again the blade that Unohana took with both hands before sliding it into the saya.

Slowly but surely everyone recollected themselves, some were unsure as to what exactly happened. What was that thing? Many chanced to wonder if it had indeed been Unohana-taichou's Bankai, or at the least some form of powerful magic.

Ichigo lost the strength in his legs, falling on his backside and trying to catch his breath. "Thank god that's over."

"Yes, thank goodness," Kyouraku tipped his hat.

"What are you talking about? Did you actually fight that thing?" for which he didn't receive an answer. It seemed like everyone was congregating around the fresh corpse, the Arrancar lying stiff still and face down. It was almost like they'd never seen one before.

"That's one of Ciego's quads." Ranza said, leaning over the body, Nel coming up next to him, now in her normal shape.

"He came through Largo's garganta before it was able to close." Rukia said.

"It shouldn't have stayed open long enough for something that big," Nel shook her head, "unless something else came just before it."

"Kyouraku-taichou, where is the little one?" came Nanao's voice.

And while we're on the subject; "Where's Wrath?"

Everyone was turning, looking, twisting every which way to try and spot the two Arrancar unaccounted for. Did they just vanish?

Author's Note: I honestly am flying by the seat of my pants with this one. I know where it's going but I'm not exactly sure how I'm getting there. Hopefully it will be highway through the entertaining and not cheesy part of town. Art for this fiction can be found at .com

enjoy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Ten**

"_Master, will you, if you can, find out the name of that poor wretch who has just fallen into the cruel hands of his adversaries?" The Inferno: Canto XXII, verses 43-45_

Dorian appeared in the throne room of Las Noches, grinning like a fool with a glimmering trinket in his hand. Ciego eyed him curiously, part of him rather eager to see what on earth he was smiling for. Sure, he was still naked, but that wasn't part of his focus for the time being.

"What have you brought me?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I hadn't the slightest clue?" Dorian laughed. "Maybe you can figure it out." he stepped up to the throne and gave Ciego the gem, which was quiet and dull.

"Cute little thing," Ciego held it up to a ray of sunlight coming through the ceiling. "Why did you take it if you didn't know what it does?"

"Well, you see, I overheard in Soul Society about this guy who had helped out our prince some time back. I thought I would take a look and see who he was. I found it in his basement. I never would have noticed it-,"

"Considering how you are," Ceigo smirked knowingly.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," Dorian sighed. "That woman of his was _so_ deliciously beautiful."

"Get on with it," he growled.

"Sorry," Dorian shook his head. "Anyway, I wouldn't have grabbed it if it didn't have any reiatsu."

"This thing?" Ceigo looked at the jewel with little belief in what he had heard.

"Yes, I know, shocking; but I have a good feeling about it. Perhaps you should have Azar look at it? He's the geek out of you three."

Ceigo studied it a moment longer, thinking as he stroked his beard. "I have another idea,"

But before he could explain, he felt something. He looked to one of his other Fraccion hiding in the shadows, saw him dip his head. He then understood. Caina had failed.

_(II)_

Largo hugged Wrath about the neck like a boy with his favorite pet. The much larger Arrancar was heaving to breath, her skin hot and sweat rolling over it. Her one amber eye was bloodshot, darting back and forth but trying to train on Largo. She pounded one fist on the ground, a gesture Largo knew meant she wanted to go back to the forest.

"The forest is gone, I'm sorry," he shook his head.

She understood that and didn't like it. She pounded both fists this time, hard enough to crack the pavement.

"Largo!"

Both of them looked to see Ranza and Nel, a host of Shinigami behind them. Wrath gabbed hold of the boy and snarled savagely, clutching Largo tightly before somersaulting upward and disappearing in a cloud of mist.

"Shit," Ranza cursed.

"She can't leave Soul Society without a garganta," Nel said.

"With enough time she can get Largo to open one."

"Perhaps it would be best to let her go?" Kyouraku suggested. "If it is all she wants, why not let her have it?"

"Because I want the Arrancar alive." Kurotsuchi had finally arrived, the rest of the Ijin-ono having gathered behind him. "I already have permission from Yamamoto so-taichou."

"I would certainly suggest against it," Kyouraku added.

"I agree with Captain Pepto here." Ranza nodded. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"But I have every intention to find out." he said with finality. In any case, if Yamamoto had given consent, there was little to gain arguing the matter. No one liked the idea, but that wasn't the issue. "So let's get a move on, shall we?"

Without another word the Shinigami began to scatter, divisions splitting into groups, following captains and vice captains as some took to the roofs while others took to the intersecting pathways below.

"Nel, you ever get the feeling something terrible is about to happen?" Ranza asked, still thinking whether or not he should get involved in this.

"Daily," she said, eventually convincing him to join in the search, albeit reluctantly.

Wrath materialized in another part of Soul Society that seemed empty, setting Largo down and starting to beset him with a whole series of gestures and sentences made up entirely of body language.

"Come on," he whined, "I'm sleepy. Let me just take a nap first."

Wrath growled in frustration, shaking him so he would stay awake, and demanded in her own way that he open a garganta. But that didn't stop his eyes from closing or the snoring. Wrath wouldn't leave him in the middle of the street, and set the sleeping boy on the porch of the nearest building. She could feel the spiritual energy of Shinigami everywhere, coming closer. She turned, seeing a tall man in a pink jacket and a straw hat, several more Shinigami falling in behind him as he rounded the corner. The blinding rage bubbled up, robbing Wrath of what little control she had. She went charging towards the Shinigami at full tilt, on all fours.

Kyouraku wasn't all too sure how he was supposed to subdue this thing and not kill it. Some stupid side of his brain thought to maybe just reach out and grab her. Nope, not unless he was in the mood to lose a limb. Still, whether he was ready or not, Wrath still came, pouncing like a hungry lion. She drop kicked the captain in the chest, landing on all fours as he fell backwards. She turned sharply to face the other Soul Reapers, slicing her own arms with her claws to unleash a heavy burst of red mist. She then took off, back the way she came to take the next corner, only to find more Shinigami. This served to fuel her rage even more.

Nanao trained her eyes on the swiftly advancing Arrancar. "Bakudo Number Sixty-Three: Sajo Sabaku!" The other Soul Reapers behind her began to perform Kidou as well, a multitude of simple binding spells to try and stop the savage bear. Wrath's vast advance slowed to a snail's pace as it appeared that something invisible was pulling her by the wrists, ankles, and shoulders. She kept pulling, refusing to surrender, needing to rip something or someone's head off.

Nanao focused as best she could, trying to make the binding spell hold, but there was no having it. It was like something snapped, and as Wrath began her assault anew, the Shinigami dispersed in a frightened hurry. Nanao couldn't move fast enough and was plowed into the wall just behind her. There was enough force behind the blow to create a depression in the concrete, her legs limply hanging out of it. Felt like getting hit by a speeding truck.

Wrath disappeared and reappeared on the rooftops, most certainly not expecting more Soul Reapers to be there. A captain came at her, the one she had seen summon the Dragon. But that did not frighten her, Wrath feared nothing. Bone met steel as Unohana-taichou drew her blade, catching the Arrancar's attack. More of the Ijin-ono closed in as they traded blows. Unohana managed to cut Wrath, a small nick on the curve of her neck, but it was large enough for mist to spill through. Unohana stepped away, refusing to breathe it in.

"Bakudo Number six-," she was stopped mid sentence when Wrath leaped upward, her knee colliding with Unohana's face. She fell backwards, rolling and catching the edge of the roof before she could fall to the ground some ten or fifteen feet. She hurriedly pulled herself back up, ignoring the blood rushing down her face and neck.

Kyouraku suddenly appeared from the streets below, wielding the twin blades of his Shikai. There was a redness about his face that no one had ever seen, and his brow was so tight. Was he angry?

He landed heavily on the roof, advancing on Wrath like he had nothing to lose.

"You hurt my Nanao!" he cried.

Wrath leaped out of the way of the man's mad swiping, taking a deep breath and exhaling to produce a white hot blast of flame. So she _could_ spit fire. Wrath took the few seconds that bought her to flee, jumping to the next room and the one after that. In the middle of the third leap she felt something heavier than herself crash into her from out of nowhere. Wrath bounced and skid until she came to a sudden stop, like she'd been shoved into a corner. She reoriented herself with a shake of the head.

Wrath looked to see another captain, a tall one with very rough features and a patch covering one eye. His hair was ridiculous and pointed. The jingling sound that seemed to come from them irritated her ears, made her crazy. Without a thought she attacked him, meaning to rip his hair right out.

"Careful, Ken-chan, she's bigger than you," a little girl with pink hair slid off the captain's back, giggling.

"Hush now, I'm busy,"

Wrath was indeed bigger than Kenpachi, but only marginally. There was only a few inches from making them equal, she being taller. Still, he welcomed the challenge. Kenpachi wasn't in the mood to draw his sword, so he met the Arrancar head-on, locking his fingers between her claws and gripping tightly. The idea of a tooth and nail scrap made him smile.

Neither one let go, only pushed and pulled against one another, even twisting to try and put one to the floor. Kenpachi didn't notice the claws cutting into his hands, slicing open the tender flesh between his fingers. All he could focus on was the rush, the thrill of battle and the amount of sheer force his opponent was trying to press against him. He could only laugh when a strong kick to the chest wouldn't break her grip. She started to spit fire at him, aiming for the face. White hot flashes that he could feel scorching his skin. He let her force him against the wall, shoving him hard into the masonry, slamming her knee again and again into his torso. All he did was laugh. And that only served to piss her off.

It wasn't long before the rest of Soul Society's forces found them and began to close in. Little by little the Ijin-ono, with members of all the other squads, closed off the streets and stood vigilant on the roofs. All of them had their swords drawn, ready to step into the battle if needed. But, by first glance, one would think Kenpachi had it under control. He wasn't losing, but it didn't look like Wrath was either. At this rate, it could last for days before either one of them even thought about getting tired.

This was a game to Kenpachi. The Arrancar's rage made her little more than a stupid animal, not very much worth his effort. Still, it had been so long since he'd had a good fight. The masochist that he was deep down really enjoyed how hard she hit him; no woman had ever hit him that hard. He felt a pain in his jaw that reminded him of it being broken.

With a delighted laugh he snapped his head forward, his forehead colliding with the muzzle portion of Wrath's mask. Ribbons of red mist came spitting out of the cracks. Wrath stumbled for the first time, covering the compression fracture with her claws.

"Kenpachi, stand aside!"

He looked up to see Hitsugaya, ever so gracefully soaring above him with sword in hand. Hitsugaya swept his zanpakuto in a downwards arc, shimmering spiritual energy raining down. It fell quickly and with purpose becoming solid ice once it touched Wrath's body. She tried to jump out of its reach, only half accomplishing the idea. She became partially sealed in a thick glacier, one arm and both feet trapped. Within seconds of forming it had begun to melt, Wrath's body was giving off so much heat. The Arrancar started thrashing and screaming, as if the coldness burned her.

"Now why did you have to go and do that for, you little brat?" Kenpachi seemed disappointed.

Toshiro landed nimbly on both feet beside his fellow captain. "We're under orders not to kill it."

"What a shame. I was having such a good time." Kenpachi shook his head. "So what are we supposed to do with it?"

"Orders are to surrender it to Kurotsuchi-taichou."

Kenpachi shook his head again, Yochiru resuming her normal place atop his back. He looked at the raving Arrancar, grinning at how its eye stayed on him, staring a dagger right between his eyes. He took a series of large steps towards the hunk of ice, finding himself in the throws of a strange curiosity. Wrath held still for just a moment, growling low. Then she swiped her one free claw at him.

Ranza and Nel had finally made it, rounding the corner and finding the great mass of Shinigami gathered. He was just able to see over then with a little hop. In that split second he saw "Jingles the Pirate" (he couldn't remember his name to save his life) step out of Wrath's reach as she struck out at him, and how quickly he drew his sword and brought it down on Wrath's head. As soon as his feet touched ground again he grabbed Nel, pulling her against him and crouching behind the building they had come round a mere moment ago.

Kenpachi's blade connected with the bone of Wrath's mask. Then...

_BOOM_.

All of Soul Society, even the Rukongai, shook. An entire quarter of Seireitei was leveled and filled with a billowing mass of red mist. Even the barrier around Seireitei rippled. Shinigami were ducking for cover, their hands over their mouths and noses and eyes. No one dared to look until the fog was but waist high, making a wee bit safer for everyone to breathe. Although some did inhale it, and were growing quite furious and beginning to take it out on one another. The wall surrounding the portion of Soul Society had bulged outward, misshapen and close to collapse. Several buildings, barracks, storerooms, training facilities, all demolished.

Even the captains were shocked to see Wrath still intact after a combustion like that. Nearly everyone figured she'd gone up in smoke, for lack of a better word. But there she was, still in ice, fighting to breathe like someone who'd pushed themselves too far. A chunk of her mask was gone, Kenpachi having cut it right off, and pieces of it lay on the ground beneath the veil of fog. From the jagged edges came a syrupy substance that was the concentration of what would be called the "Rage Aura", deep red, almost black as it trickled down across her face. Yes, she had a face, but features were hard to determine for the dirt and redness. The amber eyes were easy enough to see, no longer full of fury but of some primitive despair, like an animal aware of its impending doom. Her lips peeled back to reveal the fangs and she growled. Then she went limp, now quiet.

_(–)_

"What the hell was that?" Ichigo slowly stood, looking in the direction the great blast had come from. He'd finally found the strength to get back up, moving away from Caina's corpse which had yet to be done away with. He limped down the sidewalk, having to stop and lean on a wall for support. His body was throbbing with a nasty, potent ache.

"Ah, Kurosaki, you made it!"

He lifted his head, making a confused face when he spotted Urahara. "What are you doing here?"

"Accident really," the shopkeeper started towards him, the vice captains following along behind him.

"Who are they?" Ichigo tipped his head to the other two among the group who didn't seem to belong there.

"Just friends."

Ichigo only nodded. "So how is your being here an accident?"

"An Arrancar broke into my shop, stole something from me. We followed him through the garganta and ended up here. Haven't seen hide nor hair of him since."

"I'm sure he's still here, it's not like he could have gotten out."

"You know, that's the crazy thing," Urahara picked at the stubble on his chin. "From what I did see of him, he looked just like me, and then _'poof'_, he was someone else!"

"You mean he could be anyone wandering around here? Damn it all!" Ichigo groaned, slapping his sweaty forehead with his hand. "It's going to take forever to find him!"

On the contrary, it wouldn't be that hard at all. Of course they weren't aware of this, certainly not before it proved to be obsolete. There was an abrupt, sharp crack of thunder that came out of nowhere. There was no flash of light, no clouds to prelude it, just the bang and the smell of something burning. Everyone shied away at the terrible sound, flinching and looking away. When they turned back they all shuddered at once. Amid the scorched pavement where the bolt must have struck, there was Urahara's hat, but he was not wearing it.

Urahara had vanished into thin air. In front of everyone, he'd simply disappeared.

In spite of all this, it was only an hour or two before Soul Society had settled down. Infuriated Soul Reapers were treated with ice, as Rukia had pointed out it appeared to sooth the rage brought on by the mist. The wounded were then gathered up and taken to the Fourth Squad compound for care. Already, arrangements were being made for carpenters and masons to be brought in to begin repairs. Wrath had been detained under the supervision of Twelfth Squad.

After a meeting of the Ijin-ono and Genryusai Yamamoto, all were dismissed to general quarters until further notice.

The infirmaries of Fourth Squad were the busiest place in Soul Society, which wasn't actually saying very much. Most of the patients had bags of ice on their heads, trying to come out of their cranky haze. Others saw that the Arrancar were accounted for, coming up one short. Largo hadn't been seen in several hours, but no one seemed all too worried. It was Kyouraku who recognized Starrk, thus notifying almost everyone else to the new arrivals. There was tension for only a moment as this was a trivial revelation compared to the events of the day that had already occurred. For the time being Neliel would be responsible for them, until something more permanent could be arranged.

As inconvenient as it must have been, Nel convinced Ranza to share his room with Starrk and Halibel, promising it wouldn't be for very long. He submitted to her wishes, knowing there was no other way about it for now. After a pair of futons were brought, Nel went in search of Largo.

Kyouraku stood, leaning against the wall with a dark, grave expression on his face. The rage aura had left him, but he was still so angry. Angry at himself, not to mention being absolutely beside himself with worry. Nanao was in critical condition, and he had yet to hear anything else. He had pulled her from the wall earlier, and that moment kept playing in his mind. The weight of her motionless form in his arms, her broken glasses, her inability to respond to him, it pulled on his heart like a great weight. And it only grew heavier as he waited there for hours.

In another part of the hospital, Ichigo was wincing as a nurse tended to him. Rukia sat close by, looking rather serious and still soggy from the icy drenching she received earlier.

"Ichigo," she tried cautiously, "about earlier,"

"Don't worry about it, you weren't yourself." he flinched as bandage was pulled almost too tightly around his leg. "I don't blame you."

"Still...I feel rather bad."

"It's okay," he assured her again. "I'm not mad at you or anything, so just forget it."

Rukia lowered her head and laid her hands in her lap, still feeling as guilty as ever.

"Besides, I'm going back home, maybe a couple days to ourselves will give us time to chill out, you know...get it off our backs."

At first Rukia wanted to protest it, thinking that was the last thing she wanted, but then she thought again. No, she didn't want it, but maybe she needed it. "You think so?"

"Sure. A little private time never hurt anyone." and that was the end of it.

Elsewhere, Unohana had followed Iba to the Seventh Squad compound. The vice-captain had met her just after the meeting with Yamamoto, saying that Komamura requested she visit him. Knowing that her subordinates would be more than capable of handling the casualties, she agreed to go, planning not to stay long, you know, for safety's sake. Before she could even see the compound, Unohana could hear snoring. At least that's what it sounded like. She followed Iba inside, through the barracks to Komamura's home, finding the little Arrancar sound asleep on the porch.

"He was sleeping out front," Iba said in passing.

Unohana grinned, her motherly side seeming to take control as she knelt over the kid. What a sound he made for someone so small!

"Retsu,"

Unohana turned at the sound of Komamura's voice.

"Goodness, what happened?" He stepped off the porch to her, his hand gesturing towards her face. He could see the dried remnants of blood, the dark red bruise across her nose, but he didn't touch her.

"I'm sorry, I haven't had a chance to clean myself up." she laughed, trying to pass it off as nothing serious. "It's nothing, really."

"I do not like for you to be in pain of any kind." he said gently, deep concern in his eyes.

"Thank you, Sajin. So why did you ask for me?"

"I have been cooped up here all day long. I heard all of the commotion but saw nothing. I was hoping you could enlighten me to what has happened. Please, come in."

Unohana was about to step inside, but found herself dwelling on the little Arrancar.

"Is something wrong?" Komamura wondered.

"Could we not bring him inside, get him out of the sun?" she gave Sajin a precious smile, one that begged his generosity.

He grumbled, "Very well." And he gestured for Iba to bring Largo in, allowing him the sofa in the study to sleep on.

"Thank you, Sajin." she took his arm, making him fold his ears down. They sat together in the front room, where they often shared dinner, and Iba brought them a tray of tea before leaving them alone to stand outside.

"What troubles you, Retsu? I notice a heaviness about you."

She sighed. "It has been a very long and trying day." she began to recall everything that had happened, all the way up to the big bang, conveniently leaving out the details of how the giant was felled. Komamura didn't miss that, he had every intent to find out, even if it took a little concerned prying on his part.

"That does not sound like anything that would bother you." he sipped his tea. "Tell me, please,"

Unohana slowly gathered the words in her head, long enough to finish her tea and consider pouring a second. In fact, part of her thought a dip in the sake would be appropriate.

"I..." she took a breath. "I...summoned the Holy Dragon today."

Sajin's ears perked and then fell again. "I thought I had felt something odd. I...I would imagine that a cause for distress."

"It was the only way to stop it, but that didn't make it any easier." She tried to laugh it off again.

Sajin nodded. "I understand. Orders aren't always the easiest to follow."

There was a heavy strain of silence and then, "Not since..."

"Your late husband." he finished.

She nodded. "It seems so long ago and yet," tears threatened in her voice. "It still causes me heartache."

"Are you expecting it to go away?" he asked, knowing this was sensitive. Yes, she had been married before, but that was so long ago and he had long since died. Then again, he had been her first love.

"No, I'm not, but I suppose I had hope it would lessen." she sighed sadly, but then forced herself to wear her usual smile.

"Come now, Retsu; if you are in pain, allow yourself to feel it." Sajin set down his tea cup, standing up. He quietly stepped around the table and sat behind her, curling his arms and legs about her, his form dwarfing hers. "No need to hide it."

"You're so kind," she patted his hand. "But you must forgive me, I've always dealt with it this way."

"Allow me to bear some of the burden then. I am able." and he nuzzled her cheek.

Retsu leaned back against him, feeling plush fur against her neck. It was warm and bristly, almost tickling. She smiled, taking in his scent which was surprisingly clean. She felt his muzzle touch her head as he bent his neck.

"Could I ask you something?"

"Anything." she replied.

"Perhaps...if it pleases you...you could remain here for the night? Surely your vice-captain can manage for a few hours without you."

Unohana laughed quietly, too quiet for even him to here. "So bold."

"I meant nothing inappropriate by it," he quickly said. "You just seem so tired."

"I know, Sajin, I had never suspected such a thing. And I thank you for your concern."

He was quiet for a moment, maybe trying to bypass his surprise at how well she took his request. "I could...draw a bath for you, it would help you relax."

"Careful, Sajin, you're going to spoil me."

"I feel you deserve it. At the very least from me." he almost laughed. "Would you like to stay?"

She only thought about it for a moment. "Yes, very much. Thank you for the invitation."

"You are always welcome here." he chanced a small kiss on the shoulder before calling to Iba, telling him to deliver the message to Fourth Squad.

For the next half hour they were completely alone aside from Largo, who was still sound asleep in the study. As promised, Komamura had a hot bath prepared for her, allowing her total privacy as he finished the tea in the front room. He was content knowing she would be able to relax, perhaps let go of what was making her heart ache, if just for a little while.

He was actually starting to feel a bit proud of himself, having actually mustered the courage to ask her to stay with him. Now if he could find that courage more often...

"Sajin?"

His ears pricked at Unohana calling his name.

"Could you come here, please?"

Komamura felt his heart twist as he swallowed. Then he shook his head. There would be nothing to worry about. It was probably nothing. Stepping quietly into his bedroom he stood near the bathroom door.

"What do you need?"

"Come in, I would like your company."

Komamura controlled and silenced the coming gasp. "She...wanted him...in there? Now? But...she..._oooh_.

In the end, Sajin found himself incapable of saying no. He opened the door, keeping his eyes tightly closed. He felt his way along the wall, feeling the tiles, and found himself a seat against it.

"Sajin," she laughed, the sound of splashing water making his ears twitch. "No need to be so formal. No one's watching."

"B-but, I-you...we-,"

"Do you not wish to see me?"

He almost swallowed his tongue, like a dog he began panting. Then, little by little, he let his eyelids part.

The captain's baths were much finer, much more traditional than the others in Soul Society. They were tall and cylindrical, much like a traditional Japanese bath. And his had been renovated to be much bigger to accommodate his size.

There she was, just on the edge of it, her arms crossed and her chin resting on top of them. Her hair was tied up so it wouldn't get wet, and she wore her usual smile. However, Komamura saw much more than just a woman in a bath. She was a goddess, adorned in a steam corona that made her skin glisten in the light. He no longer noticed the bruise on her face, only the suddenly staggering blue of her eyes.

"Why so timid?"

"You know very well," he folded down his ears, once again glad he couldn't blush.

"No need to growl, Sajin. It was all in fun, I meant no harm. I understand how you are, and I appreciate that, but I just don't think it very suitable in times like these."

"Well, I suppose," he was still mulling it over in his head. Sure, they had been seeing one another for quite some time...perhaps it was time to take a tiny step forward? But she was just so...and he was so...not.

"Besides, I enjoy the way you look at me."

"Pardon?"

"Many in Soul Society see me as a captain, at the very least a powerful Shinigami, but you are different. I feel as though you look at me in a different way, although I'm not altogether sure as to what that way is."

_You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Looking at you is like seeing God._ He only grinned a little.

"And you do like to look?"

"I am only a man, Retsu, I am not so different." he chuckled.

"I'm aware," she nodded with a smile. "Since the first time we kissed, I was aware."

His insides went hot. Was she talking about what he thought she was?

"Yes, that's I what I'm thinking."

He swallowed. "I apologize."

"Nothing to apologize for, things like that are only natural." she laughed. "Don't look so ashamed." but despite her assurance, his ears flattened and he averted his eyes. "It's all right, Sajin. Oh, would you look at that, I'm getting pruny."

"I will fetch you a towel." he quickly said, practically jumping to his feet. She couldn't help but laugh quietly at his haste. His nervousness was endearing.

He returned as promised, with a fluffy towel that was surely too big for her, and his head was dipped low enough for his chin to touch his chest. "H-here you are."

"So adorably old fashion." she reached for it, stepping out of the tub. "Thank you."

"I understand you have no clothes to sleep in. I know mine are far too large, but I have lain out something that should be fine for one night." he managed out without stuttering. Then he left her alone, waiting out in the front room until she called for him.

Komamura saw her sitting on the edge of the bed in the smallest article of clothing he owned, which was a yukata he had almost forgotten about. He had to resist the urge to start panting, she looked so...sexy. Her legs were crossed, and the yukata was just able to cover her, the neck opening almost too far. In some weird way it made him notice much more clearly her mature form of femininity; not exactly innocent, but certainly not corrupt or disillusioned.

"I sleep in the nude." it just fell out, and he wanted to slap himself.

"That's just fine." she forced back a giggle.

"B-b-but, I-,"

"Please, don't change your habits over me. I would hate to inconvenience you."

_Inconvenience isn't exactly what's bothering me_. He swallowed, carefully moving to his side of the bed. It was more than big enough for him, but with another body it was just large enough to hold them both. If he had skin like any other man, sleeping in clothing would be no matter of concern, but since that wasn't the case, it was best for him to sleep naked. It would be too hot if he slept in anything more than his fur. With his back to the bed, Komamura slowly began to undress. With his arm free of the sling it was much easier than a few days before. Sure, it was still tender, but it was a pain he could ignore.

Unohana couldn't help but watch, never mind how some people would consider it dirty. She was actually to find, as he bared more and more, just how similar he was to any other man. By the looks of it the muscles in his back and shoulders were the same, and surely those in his chest were also. She wouldn't no for sure. In all the years he had been a Shinigami, he was adamant about keeping on his clothing whenever he received his bi-annual physical or any form of medical care. It was either that, or that he be tended to by a male nurse. She had known of his notorious sense of self-disgust, so she could only imagine his reasons for doing such things.

His entire pelt was well kept and appeared to be regularly groomed, having a gentle shine to it. She felt an almost girlish urge to brush it. Unohana found herself marveling over the strength of him, how all the muscles moved in succession as he moved to untie his sash. She could hear his heated, hurried breaths as the knot came undone and he began to unwind the cloth from around his waist.

Sajin could feel himself shaking. He felt a weakness growing in his heart, a voice telling him to stop right there, don't go any further. This whole endeavor would be a disaster if...

"Don't be so shy, Sajin. It's just us."

He felt his fur bristle all over, his version of goosebumps. He heard the bed rustle, bare feet touching the polished wood floor and taking steps. Then hands were on him, touching his back, easing down towards his hips. He took a breath, holding it.

"R-Retsu,"

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, her hands easing over his. She loosened his vice like grip on the sash and helped him let it go.

Sajin fretted when his clothes didn't smoothly fall down his legs. Maybe she wouldn't notice.

Unohana was surprised not to find a tail. She had heard rumors that he had one, a long one that swished back and forth under his hakama as he walked. That didn't appear to be the case. But he _did_ have a splendid bottom and masterfully toned legs.

"Turn around," she requested.

He didn't want to, worried what she would do when she saw the rest of him, but again found himself unable to deny her when she gently pulled on his arm to face her.

Retsu thought he was a beautiful man, why he hated his image so much she would never know. But she could tell by the tightened look on his face, how his ears folded, that he didn't like her intense scrutiny. With a grin she grabbed his snout and pulled it down so he would look at her. His ear pricked and he looked like someone about to be scolded.

"See? Not so bad, is it?" She asked. He shook his head against her hand and then she kissed his nose.

She let him go after a short moment. "It is late."

"Yes, I suppose it is." she hadn't even realized the sun had already gone down. "Again I want to thank for your generosity."

"It was nothing." he stepped away to sit on the bed, pulling the blanket across his lap.

"Not just to me, but the little one." she circled the bed and sat on the other side.

"I can't say no to you, Retsu, surely you've noticed that." he laughed a little. "but why is you care about it?"

"Him," she corrected gently. "He's just a child. I'm sure he, like many of the Arrancar, is a victim to Aizen's ego. We shouldn't hold that against him."

"He is still an Arrancar." Sajin grumbled, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. He lay the blankets across him in such a way that hid his erection.

"But are they so evil?" She asked just as she slid beneath the covers.

Komamura furrowed his brow and growled, unable to find a suitable way to argue that question. Like people, even like Shinigami, we're all capable of good evil, despite how we appear or how we come to be in the world. He of all people knew that well. In the end he nodded and leaned over, putting out the lantern on his bedside table. A few seconds later the other went out.

Komamura felt himself grow hot as she scooted close to him, her arm draped across his chest. His heart wouldn't slow down, pounding wildly in his chest. He was never going to get to sleep.

"Sajin?"

"Hmm?"

"Does it bother you that I was with another man before you?"

He was quiet for a long time. "Should it?"

"No, I just always took you for the territorial type."

"I honestly wouldn't know," he confessed in the darkness. "I've never been associated with a woman like I am with you. I haven't had the chance to be...territorial as you say." After a moment he began to feel put on the spot. She'd been married, surely experienced intimacy. What if he couldn't please her, that is if they ever went that far? He shuddered; he would probably be terrible, laughable at best.

"I was almost a mother too."

Sajin tilted his head towards her, not actually able to see but knowing where her face would be. Her breath was against his chest so he could easily tell.

"I hadn't even joined the academy when I married. My husband was in Sixth Squad, back when Byakuya's grandfather was captain. All we ever wanted was children."

Komamura listened carefully, his ears remaining trained on her voice.

"The pregnancy went so well, we never dreamed," she paused, "the child was stillborn. I wanted so badly to give him a son." she shook her head against his fur. "After that it was never the same. He became absorbed in his work, eventually dying in combat. I was devastated. It was his death that made me want to be a Shinigami."

Sajin blinked, never expecting what she was about to say.

"I wanted revenge, I wanted to find the Hollow and destroy it. Perhaps six months before I graduated I discovered the Holy Dragon."

"Did you ever find the Hollow?"

"Yes. And I had my way. But I was...it didn't satisfy me. After that I asked to be assigned to Fourth Squad, wanting to preserve life instead of take it."

"Retsu,"

"The little Arrancar feels familiar. Almost like I had known him before. A little part of me thinks..." she couldn't bring herself to finish. It was a stupid dream after all.

"Stranger things have happened." was all he said, pulling her a little closer as she kissed the top of her head.

"Thank you for listening, Sajin." she said after a moment.

"Of course. Goodnight."

Author's Note: I think it might be time for a little more Ulquihime soon. I've just gotten a little caught up in Komamura and Unohana, I think they're just the cutest ever. What became of Urahara? I guess I'll let you know in the next chapter, depends on my mood. Sorry about the jump in the Canto at the top, I went through several of them and just couldn't find a fitting passage, so I kept reading until I found one. The Inferno is a awesome piece of literature! Read it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Eleven**

"_Where is it? Where is that untamed beast?" The Inferno: Canto XXV, verse 18_

Ulquiorra enjoyed being out of the house. Well, as much as anyone like him could enjoy anything. He certainly preferred it to being cooped up and on the couch watching the cat play with the remote. His boredom had been staved when Orihime came home one afternoon with an arm full of books from the library, saying he could help himself to them. The assortment was varied, ranging from a mystery novel, a book of famous sonnets and plays, to a book on Origami. The mystery he finished in the span of an hour or two. Not that the book was short, but he figured it out, checking the last few pages to make sure he was right. The plays were full of nonsense and stupidities that were only so entertaining. However the Origami book was quite fascinating. To think so many things could be shaped by folding paper! He spent hours doing it, finding he could make the most complicated shapes in a matter of minutes. When he had made everything in the book, he started inventing his own. Orihime loved his enthusiasm, almost as much as she loved how it seemed to make him grin from time to time.

Now that he was outside, away from his paper folding and surrounded by people, he couldn't resist the urge to watch, to observe. Orihime was off doing something. She had told him before disappearing, but he must have missed the words and couldn't remember.

Ulquiorra had being feeling odd things for the last few days. He couldn't quite explain them, though he had his theories. It was a strange new form of awareness, some sort of...what would you call it...

He was starting to enjoy looking at women. Well, not just any women. Well, not just women. More like parts of them. Ulquiorra wondered if this was normal. While he thought about it, he continued watching.

Thighs were interesting, but quickly lost their appeal. They were very typical, seeming to be of only one size from woman to woman. Bellies went the same way, unremarkable and quickly forgotten. Breasts lasted a little longer on his list of interesting features. They came in various sizes and shapes, but after a while he resigned to the fact that men were meant to find them attractive, they were engineered to be that way. Eye color was near the top of that mental list. Most of the women in this city had dark colored eyes, with the few and far in between that differed.

_Woman's eyes are like silver_. He mused as he watched. _No one else has them_.

He was indifferent towards hair. It seemed trivial to him. So, what was at the top of his list?

_Too small...too big..._

_ Too much...nothing at all..._

_ Too wide...too narrow..._

_ That's nice...that's a man...a man shouldn't be allowed to look that good..._

_ ...Whoa..._

_ Perky...soft...round...that's perfect...that's Onna..._

Orihime had bent over to pick up a few coins she had dropped as she tried to put them in her pocket. He found himself staring...her butt was perfect. Was he what mortals called an ass-man? Why did he, all of a sudden, have an insensible urge to reach out and grab her backside?

"Here, try this," she handed him a small plastic cup full of shaved ice that was colored blue.

"What is it?

"I know you don't care for sweets too much, but I thought you would like this." she smiled at him.

"I see." and he tried a bite. It wasn't too sweet, it was even a bit tangy. Cool and pleasant. "I do like this. Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

"And again I thank you for the books."

"I was hoping you would enjoy them. If you would like I could get you more."

"If you find the time," he took another bite. "I would be grateful."

"Anything in particular you would like to read about?" she asked.

Ulquiorra thought about it through a mild brain freeze that left him cringing. "Perhaps you could suggest something to me. What is it you read? I often see you reading before you go to bed."

Orihime swallowed and then laughed. "You don't seem the type to like romance."

"If my understanding of that genre is correct, the same could be said of you." he slanted his eyes towards her, noticing her blush.

"I could lend you some of my own if want."

"If it is convenient for you." he nodded. His mind wandered back to seeing her on her bed, the cat in her lap and a doll tucked under her arm as she read, seemingly glued to the paperback book. Speaking of which...

"Where did that doll come from?" he asked as if the question came from nowhere.

Orihime showed her surprise with raised brows and widened eyes. "It...it was a birthday birthday present from Uryu."

"Ah. It looks familiar."

"You noticed?" she laughed somewhat nervously.

"I would imagine, all things considered, that it could be a somewhat intimate gift?"

"I...I suppose so." she crossed her legs, stirring the tips of her shoes into the sidewalk.

"Am I to understand you and Ishida Uryu were close?"

"I mean...well, we've always been friends but...yeah. We gave it a try but it just didn't work. I guess he might have been trying to take care of me. He must've known that I was going through a tough time."

"I see. He wished to comfort you in ways only a close loved one could?"

"I suppose. But it didn't work. I couldn't bring myself to get much closer to him than we are now. We're still friends, but...I think he's still looking out for me though."

"I understand." Ulquiorra nodded. "Has there been anyone else?"

"No," she shook her head. "Why?"

"Simple curiosity." that wasn't entirely true, but he wasn't about to divulge that. "Perhaps we should go back. It is hot."

She was willing to agree. There wasn't much of a breeze or cloud cover so the heat was bordering on debilitating.

They turned the corner onto Orihime's street, starting towards the house when she froze, her hand going to Ulquiorra's chest to stop him.

"Inoue!" Ichigo waved from just down the street.

For a split second she forgot about Ulquiorra, her killer instinct to keep him hidden, when she noticed Ichigo limping and bandages around his arms. She took a step, as if to go to him, but paused. Her heart was threatening to get stuck in her throat, pounding harder and harder the closer he came. He certainly like how serious he was looking either.

"Ichigo, what happened?"

"I just got back from Soul Society," by the looks of it he hadn't even acknowledged that anyone else was there other than the two of them. "Things have gotten a little crazy."

"Is everyone all right?"

"For the most part, but," he carefully scratched the back of his head. "Urahara's gone missing. He just...right before my eyes he disappeared."

"What? How?"

"Not sure yet. But...Inoue, don't be surprised if they come asking for your help. Whatever is going on...it's serious. Not as big as Aizen but close enough. I just wanted to-," than he paused, his eyes shifting away from her and to over her shoulder. It felt like a ten ton weight just fell on her shoulders.

"What the hell...it can't be."

Orihime saw his eyes widen and she panicked. "Ichigo, please, let me explain,"

"You've got to be shitting me!" and he shot an accusatory finger at the former Espada. "Where did he come from?"

"Ichigo," she tried again to tell him. Ulquiorra remained still.

"Have you been hiding him?" he was shouting now, seemingly flabbergasted that she would do such a thing, after all she'd been through. "Inoue, for all we know, he could be involved!"

"Involved with what?" She screamed at him, finally having enough of the brow beating. In fact she was fed up with a lot of things. "Do not treat me like a child, Kurosaki Ichigo, who I welcome into my home is none of your business!"

Ichigo staggered back, his expression full of disbelief. She was so angry, becoming almost unrecognizable.

Orihime had suddenly found some long dormant strength, deep down where she had never looked. She didn't want to be angry, but even more she didn't want someone in her face telling her what to do or lecturing her.

"I don't know what's going on in Soul Society, and at this moment I don't care. But if they want my help, you be sure to tell them to leave us alone. Ulquiorra hasn't harmed anyone since he's come to stay with me."

"B-but, Inoue,"

"No buts!" she stomped her foot like a five-year-old in the middle of meltdown.

"Inoue, I just don't want you to get hurt," his voice had softened to a more friendly tone.

"Then you'll keep this to yourself."

Her gaze on him was almost terrifying. He couldn't find any more words to protest the issue.

"Go home," she demanded.

He didn't say another word other than "goodbye" before he turned and walked away. All she could do was pray and hope he wouldn't say anything. Ulquiorra carefully approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's go inside."

She only nodded.

Inside she went directly to the kitchen, putting more food in the cat's bowl. With that done she lingered there, leaning on the kitchen counter and using one hand to hold her head up. She couldn't believe her temper. It had hurt to talk to Ichigo like that, downright painful really. She had no idea she had that much anger in her. Hot tears welled up and she couldn't hold them back.

Ulquiorra had to admit that he was rather...impressed with how she handled him. His memory of her was drastically different, and somewhat ill supported by what happened. As he stood on the threshold of the kitchen he found himself feeling something strange; a tiny pain in his heart as he watched her cry quietly over the counter.

"Explain," he said softly.

"I'm scared," she sniffed, trying to compose herself. "If he...if they come for you I won't be able to stop them." she managed to get out, wiping her eyes.

"I am to understand that they would destroy me?"

"Probably." she almost started again.

Ulquiorra took the handful of steps needed to stand in front of her. "You care so much for my welfare. I don't understand. Our time together before now wasn't exactly conducive to these feelings you have."

"I know, it's crazy." she forced a laugh. He was right, it was crazy and stupid. "It just, kind of happened. I mean, in a place filled with people who wanted to use me...even kill me...you took care of me. Sure, it was only because Aizen told you to..."

"You saw it as a kind gesture on my part." he arched an eyebrow.

"I guess I did." she wiped her eyes again, the area around them becoming red. "At the time I was just grabbing hold of anything I could get."

"That is understandable." he nodded, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. "However, your seemingly kind gesture...it _feels_ like more to me."

Orihime lifted her head, looking up at him. The warmth she found in his eyes was almost staggering, so different to his usual composure. It looked like he was trying the best he knew how to offer her comfort. She knew what she wanted, what would make her feel even the slightest bit better. But she had a feeling he wasn't ready or willing to give her that.

Ulquiorra decided he didn't like seeing her in such a state. There had to be a way he could remedy it. His mind was on the verge of racing for an answer, when he found it. Much like when she had seen Ishida, fretting over the exact same thing...he pulled her gently against his chest, curling his fingers in her hair. It worked before, perhaps it was enough to ease her worry again.

Her tears dried almost immediately. Orihime found his heartbeat and took a breath, feeling the edge come off the anxiety. She actually found it in her to smile a little. Was he starting to translate actions into emotions, or vice versa? Was he even aware of it? Was he doing this simply because he knew it would calm her down, or did he really...

"I do not like it when you are troubled. Somehow it effects me as well. Is there no way to prevent these things?"

"No," she shook her head against his chest. "It's just how humans are sometimes. Thank you for caring, though."

"So that is what this is," he nodded slowly, as if he finally comprehended something that had been eluding him. "I must admit...it's not as troublesome as you make it seem."

She lifted her head. "What do you mean by that?"

"You worry over my well being. Worry is not healthy for humans, I have read of many ailments that can occur in those who worry too much. I understand that you care for me...a great deal."

She blushed, edging her eyes away from his for a moment. He was right, he'd hit the nail on the head. So, with that being said, why did she still have reservations about agreeing with him? Ulquiorra hooked his finger beneath her chin, tilting it upward so she was sure to look at him.

"You humans are strange. Although," he paused a moment, taking in her expression that was riddled with a form of anxious curiosity. "You are not entirely detestable creatures."

She wasn't sure if she should feel offended or flattered.

Ulquiorra had been analyzing it for days. Why he pondered such fanciful ideas was still a wonder to him. What if he decided to pursue her, or to allow the woman to have what she wanted? How troublesome or pleasant would it be? Would he even be able to reciprocate any feelings she would express towards him? This heart was still so unfamiliar, but it was certainly able enough to make him stop and consider every little thing in regards to it. This heart made him watch humans as if to learn, to watch this woman in an almost admiring way. This heart was pounding, making him want to breathe a little faster. He felt a tugging in his loins he wasn't able to immediately understand, and all because of this heart. What else was it capable of forcing on him?

"Ulquiorra?"

"I am thinking." he said, still looking over her.

"What about this time?" she laughed, as he was always thinking about one thing or another. Suddenly she was all too aware of how his other arm had snaked around her waist and tightened almost possessively. Their hips were pressed together and something hard was sticking into her belly. She didn't connect the dots at the time concerning what it was.

"I find it strange." he said then.

"What?"

"You...you are so fragile and yet...I find myself drawn to you. I'm beginning to believe perhaps it was you who drew me out of that darkness to inhabit this body. Somehow."

Orihime looked verily surprised. That was an incredibly personal statement, and coming from him it was damn near miraculous.

"I do not know what to make of it, but my thoughts continually return to you." his brow tightened at the middle slightly, as if to show his mild distress over the matter. "I cannot explain it."

She couldn't either. She hadn't a clue; Orihime had her hopes and fantasies, but no clue. She found herself shivering when the finger beneath her chin graduated to his hand cupping her cheek.

"So soft," he breathed quietly.

Orihime searched his face, looking for a single tell, anything that would help her know what he was thinking. She covered her hand with his, almost leaning into his touch. All this time she had wanted it so badly. Her heart raced, her blood boiled, she couldn't help herself. She lifted herself up onto her toes, her arms curling about his neck.

Ulquiorra felt his eyes widen when her soft lips pressed against his. He went rigid, but for only a moment. Once the initial nervous thrill passed, his muscles loosened. He could feel his hand dipping lower down her, towards her perfect butt. His fingers splayed apart and he couldn't stop them from grasping at the pliable softness under her denim capris. A shiver went through him when she groaned into his mouth.

Just as his nerves were starting level, just before he was comfortable, she pulled away, taking a slow step back. Her face was beet red and she looked to be having trouble with looking him in the eye.

"What is wrong?" he asked. "You are not pleased?"

"N-n-no, it isn't that." she shook her head hurriedly and twiddled her thumbs. "I...well...I didn't expect you'd be so..."

"You thought I would reject it?"

"Not exactly."

"Or did it surprise you that I had any reaction at all?"

She nodded after a moment. "But I'm glad you did. How...was it okay?"

"You're lack of experience is obvious." he said, looking away as he felt the cat around his ankles. "But, all in all, I found it...pleasant. A very curious gesture." he looked back at her. "Again?"

It took every ounce of self control she had not to squeal like a little girl at his request.

_(II)_

It was a rare moment in time that Urahara was on his knees, even more rare that he liked it. In any case, now wasn't one of those moments where he enjoyed it. Not in the very least. It was bad enough he had absolutely no clue where he was, but by the feel of the spiritual energy of this place this had to be the biggest Hollow nest he'd ever had the displeasure of being in.

He had been brought to Las Noches perhaps hours ago, he wasn't all that sure how long it had been. He had been left alone for the most part, all by himself in a small room with only one window. But in the last ten minutes, what had to be an Arrancar intruded, not saying a word as he and four others came in. Without delay they grabbed him up by the hair and arms and shoved him to the floor. They twisted his arms back holding firmly by the wrists until Urahara found himself unable to move them at all. They did the same to his upper arms as well as his neck. Bands of solid gold held him in place, almost too tight around his neck. He could move his head from side to side, and move his legs, but that was all he could do other than breathe.

Then they yanked back his head, pain biting through his scalp and face as they forced his mouth open. They made him drink something that was bitter and gritty, yet it smelled familiar. Almost immediately he began to feel sick to his stomach.

The Arrancar lifted to his feet, leading him out into the hallways and eventually to the throne room. As always, Ciego was sitting on his throne, and he appeared eager to get acquainted with his new guest. Azar and Valia were also present, their Fraccion coming to stand beside them once they had put Urahara in front of the throne.

"Welcome to our humble home." Ciego tried to be a good host, despite how it was so clearly against his nature.

"Thanks for the invitation," Urahara replied with a nod, trying not cringe over the nasty taste in his mouth. "Can't say much for the customer service, but thanks all the same."

"Wouldn't want you leaving too soon." Ciego chuckled. "Still, feel free to make yourself at home."

"Indeed." he considered his current situation and found the before mentioned liberty quite difficult. "What am I doing here anyway? Mind you I love being the center of attention as much as the next guy, but,"

"Of course, of course," Ciego nodded. "To be honest with you...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Urahara,"

"Urahara then. But I want to know what this little thing is." he pulled the gem out of his hakama, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. It looked to be glowing, but not very much. It was hard to tell in this light. "What does it do?"

"Well, not to sound rude or anything, but I haven't the slightest damn clue. I don't what it is or what it does. It just kind of happened." He wasn't lying but he wasn't telling the whole truth either. "So if that's all you wanted, I'd really like to go home now.

"If that gorgeous, mocha-skinned vixen were waiting for me, I'd be in a hurry too." Dorian seemed to appear out of nowhere, stark naked and proud of it.

Urahara made a strange face, having felt his heart sink. He certainly didn't like the sound of that. What had happened in his shop while he was gone?

"You are such a slut," Valia laughed at the lesser sin.

"That's never bothered you before," Dorian gave her a sly grin.

Urahara then realized that he was surrounded by some seriously depraved lunatics.

"Back to the matter at hand," Ciego growled, everyone else growing quiet. "I'm afraid I can't let you leave just yet. I think my brother could use your help very much."

"Well, if it keeps me alive and gets me home in one piece," he had to take what he could get at this point. He wasn't good to anyone dead. "I suppose I'll see what I can do."

"Oh, I have no doubts about you, Mr. Urahara, believe me. I have the utmost most faith in your abilities." Ciego grinned.

He certainly didn't like where this was going. He downright hated it when he realized who Ciego's brother was. The Fraccion dragged him down into the very bowels of Las Noches, down into the prison that was guarded by what seemed like a small multitude of serpent faced guards. They put him in a cell, still bound by gold, and left him there, the door unlocked. Odd.

Urahara tried to break his bonds, but found himself devoid of any energy to do so. Then it hit him. He'd had the bottle of ink in his coat, which hadn't been there when he checked an hour or so ago. They had made him drink it. Not only was his reiatsu hidden, but it was limited to the bare minimum. He was so boned.

Then he heard the sound of bare feet dragging in a steady pace across the floor. He didn't have to lift his head as the band of gold around his neck kept him dipping it any lower than level. Slowly but surely Bordell appeared, although Urahara smelled him before he saw him. Needless to say he wanted to puke his guts out when he saw him.

"Well now," Bordell rasped as he pulled the cell door open. "don't you look...healthy."

Urahara felt his stomach and his heart collapse at the same time. What a disgusting creature.

"It's about time Ciego made good on his payment." Bordell began to step closer to Urahara, smelling the delectable aroma of his life force, his health. "I was becoming oh so hungry."

Urahara couldn't bring himself to move, not a single inch in spite of how badly he wanted to. Even when Bordell's odor was too much to stomach his body wouldn't budge.

"Ciego said I couldn't kill you." he mentioned as he bent down, the bones in his spine popping. "Now that I look at you I don't want to. I want to keep you around. You and I can be good friends."

"How about pen pals instead?" he turned his face away.

Bordell laughed. "Oh no, that just won't do." he snatched Urahara by the chin with his sharp talon fingers, forcing him to look straight. "Give me a smile,"

With a firm squeeze Bordell forced his jaws apart, his mouth opening without his consent. Then Bordell began to feed, leeching the very life from Urahara mouthful by mouthful.

In the upper floors of the palace, in Azar's fault, he was looking over the gem. Dorian had been right, it was giving off some spirit energy, but that was the long and short of it for the time being. When he was fed up with the shiny trinket he set it aside and felt the urge to play with something else. He easily had large country's worth of oddities and artifacts here, what used to be Szayel's old laboratory. There were only a small handful of things in his collection that he didn't understand or couldn't translate. Puzzles were his guilty pleasure, finding one too difficult was near impossible. He was able to break down what was in Urahara's ink to figure out what it does in mere minutes. Still, either it was too complicated, or just broken. However, as rare as it was for Azar to take in things that needed fixing, it still happened. One of those things were an original pair of golden automatons that he had found in the mortal world, in the land called Greece. He had stolen them, of course, but that wasn't the case. The case was that they were broken, and he wanted to fix them.

At first glance one would think they were falling apart, missing some parts, but in reality they were just a little old. Parts we're never an issue, especially on golden objects. His Fraccion could fabricate anything he needed. But he could not make these robots operate to save his life. For the last couple centuries they had only served to be conversation pieces and nice decorations for a fireplace or two.

Azar would play around with them for a few hours a day, sometimes every other day, making little progress with no never mind to his schedule. The only real advances he made was in constructing new facades for both of them, making them look as noble soldiers would with fine golden swords and shields. He thought that if he ever got them to work he could put them to good use defending the palace.

Deep down Azar didn't really understand what Ciego was up to. Sure, it was in his nature to have the best of everything, the greatest of any available title or say-so, but this whole endeavor to rule Hueco Mundo was a little much even for him. And why on earth would he drag the lot of them along with him? It was a pointless thing. Still, perhaps it was better than just having his insurmountable wealth as company...who was he kidding?

All that aside, he felt that the robots were indeed missing something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had a feeling it might very well be a power source, but what was there here in the vast wastes of Hueco Mundo? Nothing, to be sure.

Then he felt it. He turned towards the gem on the table, having felt its reiatsu pulse. He found it glowing a very curious mixture of colors. It was black bleeding into purple. Azar picked it up, finding that it had started to become warm. After thinking about it, watching it for next hour, he thought to put the jewel next to one of the robots. You know, just to see if anything would happen.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that something did.

_(III)_

Unohana kissed Komamura goodbye, knowing she was past due to return to Fourth Squad. He did his best not to show his displeasure at her leaving. Last night had been very pleasant, and he begun to grow accustomed to the comfort of her presence. Still, things needed to be done and many of them were things only she was capable of. At the very least she was taking the Arrancar with her. It wasn't that he hated the little boy, just that he didn't like him in his home. Something about it was just awkward. When she was gone he went about his room, picking up his clothes from the night before as well as the yukata he had lent her. He couldn't help but sniff at the garment, finding her gentle scent all over it. He pondered bothering to wash it. In the end he decided to do so since half of his bed still smelled of her anyway, like a flower garden just before sunrise.

Unohana held Largo by the hand as they walked, mostly to make sure he didn't fall if he decided to fall asleep suddenly. Periodically she would look down at him, receiving a warm smile from the Arrancar. He didn't seem to have an ounce of ill will in him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Unohana Retsu."

"Uno-mama?" he tried to say her surname, coming just shy of getting it right.

She found him staggeringly adorable. "No, Uno-_hana_."

"Oh...kay...can I call you Nana?" by the sounds of it he probably found her name a little too much to remember.

She laughed a little. "Yes, I suppose that would be all right. Now, tell me, is Ranza a good friend of yours?"

"Yup. We've been buddies for a long time." Largo nodded.

"Does he take good care of you?"

"When he's around."

"He travels often?"

"Sometimes. When he's not around, Wrath looks after me."

"Really?" She was genuinely surprised to hear that. She almost didn't believe it.

"Nana?"

"Yes?"

"Where is Wrath? Is she okay?" he was frowning when he asked, looking like a lost puppy.

"I'm sure she's all right," she quickly answered, honestly not sure if she was telling the truth or not. "Kurotsuchi-taichou is taking care of her."

"The guy that looks like a clown with lock-jaw?" he sounded disgusted.

Unohana had to cover her mouth to suppress a laugh.

Largo lowered his head and frowned. "I don't like him. He's not very nice, is he?"

Unohana mulled it over in her head. In reality, no, Kurotsuchi wasn't much for kindness. He wasn't much for anything he couldn't learn something new from or take something from that would further his own ambitions. In the end she could only shake her head to his question.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

"I will see what I can do." was the only answer she could give him.

When they returned to Fourth Squad, Isane was quick to appear and give her captain a report as well as the current in-patient roster. It was a fairly standard procedure. With everything appearing to be in order, Unohana had Isane take Largo back to Ranza. After making her rounds she went to her office to catch up on the small pile of papers that needed her signature. Imagine her surprise when the Arrancar prince knocked on her door.

"Hi. I just wanted to thank you for watching the little guy. I was worried where he'd gone to." Ranza said as he walked in. "I knew Wrath wouldn't try to hurt him, but, you know,"

"He was just fine when we found him. He was asleep of course, but unharmed all the same." she smiled at him and nodded.

"I had figured, but still, I appreciate it." he laughed a little. "So what about Wrath? I know you took her alive, but where is she now?"

"Twelfth Squad." Unohana said, assuming he knew well enough what that meant.

"For some reason that gives me a really bad feeling." his brow tightened.

"I'm fairly certain Kurotsuchi-taichou wouldn't kill her, at least not intentionally, if that's what you're worried about. But, then again you can never be sure with him." she looked equally if not more troubled over it than he was.

Ranza felt his stomach wrench and his heart sink.

"Damn it."

"What's the matter?" she asked, seeing the grave look on his face.

"You need to get your fan club together for a little pow-wow. And whatever it is Smiley's doing needs to stop before he gets us all blown to hell."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Just what I said. You know what, screw it, I need to talk to Yama-mama,"

"Yamamoto?"

"That's what I said, wasn't it? Still, I need to talk to him, and now. Not now, but _right_ now."

"What's the problem?" Unohana was genuinely confused and had absolutely no idea what his malfunction was.

"Where do I begin?" Ranza had the look about him of someone gone suddenly mad, wide eyed and speaking with grand hand gestures. "Should I start with the mass extinction, or the dimensional collapse?"

Unohana paled. "Oh dear, that does sound quite serious."

"You think I'm saying this just to hear myself talk, lady?"

"Excuse you,"

He reigned himself in, trying his best not to lose it. "Sorry. Still, this is a big deal. Could we _please_ go and talk to...,"

"Yamamoto?"

"Him." Ranza pointed.

"I think it would be best if we did. Come with me,"

"_Thank you_; finally, someone who listens to me!" he threw his hands in the air to emphasis just how happy he was.

_(–)_

There were few things in this world or the next that impressed Kurotsuchi more than his own genius. Although he was thinking about making a few exceptions, perhaps at least putting them on his short mental list of things that came close.

In the hours following Wrath's containment, a battery of tests and samples were collected from the Arrancar for cataloging and study. Two of his assistants had been seriously injured doing so, and poor Nemu was missing half her face despite that they had taken the clawed gauntlets, but it was a small price to pay. In the end he had to call in Kido experts from Eighth Squad to bind the beast as best they could, eventually accomplishing the feat after applying seven or eight spells. All of it was well worth it.

He also had the opportunity to examine the other Arrancar's corpse, which yielded only a few things that dwelled on the very shallow side of profound. The only thing he even bothered to raise an eyebrow at was how curiously familiar the remnants of the corpse's reiatsu was similar to Wrath's, like the lesser had been engineered out of Wrath's basic spiritual make up. But that was the long and short of it.

Kurotsuchi found the effects of the red mist on his test rats very fascinating. It was a rare case for spirit pressure to be so massive that it physically manifests in such a way, much less that it causes adverse symptoms in others. Ranza had something like it during his release form to the point where you could smell the ocean, but this was far beyond that. Lord only knows what he would be able to do with it, what he could apply it to. If nothing else, it was something about Arrancar that was new, previously unheard of.

One thing that had fascinated him was Wrath's ability to heal at an accelerated rate. That was common among most of the Arrancar, most prevalent in the Espada, but in Wrath it was easily double that. He had been studying skin and muscle tissue samples under a microscope for a while now and what he had seen was quite fascinating. Even when separated from the body the cells continued to multiply and perform the needed functions in order to seal a wound. The muscle tissue grew new skin, and skin sample started spreading as if to cover something. It made him giggle. Now _this_ was something he could work with! Why, given enough time and resources he could even-

"Kurotsuchi-taichou?"

"What?" twisted his head around almost Exorcist style to glare at his interrupting underling. He noticed a Hell Butterfly fluttering by the Shinigami's shoulder. The tiny black bug drifted across the lab to the captain, relaying the message it carried. By the time it disappeared he was furious, pounding his fists on the table, the microscope rattling on its base.

According to the butterfly, Unohana-taichou would be here in one hour to request the surrender of the Arrancar known as Wrath to her, and he was expected to comply without protest. This order was from Yamamoto, so there was no protesting it anyhow. Why did that woman have to always stick her nose in his business? It seemed like every time he wanted to have a little fun she slapped him on the hand and took his toys away! He gritted his teeth and growled with tightened fists.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it," he chanted angrily. "May that damn woman trip over her ridiculous braid!"

Still, he thought after a moment, he had an hour. That was more than enough time to take as many more samples he needed to dabble with and be somewhat happy. There was no time to waste. He took the lot of his most trusted assistants with him to the containment cell, almost wincing at the light coming from all of the Bakudo seals.

Wrath was fixed in a kneeling position, her knees bent beneath her with the pull of the Bakudo making her stay put. Her arms were crossed at her throat, glowing chains wrapped around them and her neck. Her face was hidden by the shaggy white fur coming the back of what remained of her mask. The teeth in the top portion were gone, taking away from the savage snarl once perpetually displayed on her face. The bottom jaw hanging from the chains had split at the middle, now dangling in pieces. She looked so small compared to the snarling abomination that had stumbled into Soul Society only yesterday.

"We only have an hour," Kurotsuchi said with a bite of bitterness in his voice. "Take what you can without killing it."

And they went to work, quickly, efficiently, never mind cleanly.

Author's Note: The quotes from the Inferno are a little cryptic, aren't they? I try to find ones that sort of some up some how or clue you readers into what's going to happen in the chapter. If you don't get it, just drop me a line and I'll do my best to explain it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twelve**

"_Why are you such a coward in your heart, why aren't you bold and free of all your fear?" _

_The Inferno: Canto II, Verses 122, 123_

Unohana had recruited Isane and several other women from Fourth Squad to follow her and Ranza to the Twelfth Squad compound, Largo coming along as well.

Ranza was almost beside himself, glad that Yama...whatever his name was, gave the orders so quickly, and that Captain Mom was more than willing to follow up on them. Although, despite the swift actions, Ranza was still worried. He was starting to feel little pulses of reiatsu, getting stronger as they drew closer to Twelfth Squad. He hoped the others were feeling it too.

Twelfth Squad probably had to be the most uninviting place in the universe next to Hueco Mundo itself. It just had an air about it that didn't and shouldn't sit well with anybody. The main building of the compound was easily the third tallest structure in Seireitei, next to the Room of Penitence. Upon a closer look, Ranza was able to spot puffs of what looked like smoke coming out of one of the windows in steady bursts. He had to squint, but eventually discerned that it was red mist. He bit his lip, cursing. The Arrancar encouraged the Shinigami to hurry it along.

They let themselves in. A majority of the Shinigami in Soul Society were terrified of Unohana to begin with, so it was hard to find someone to argue her entry into the compound, many of them simply stood aside, trying not scream like little girls as she walked by in her unintentionally imposing manner. The group made their way passed the labs and into the cell block, finding the floor covered in a veil of mist. No one seemed bothered by it, and it would stay that way so long as no one got a face full of the stuff. Even Largo was managing okay, and it was closer to him since he was shorter. The parasite in Ranza's leg coughed, but in the end said and did nothing unnatural.

They found the source of the mist, waves of it coming out of an open cell. Unohana took a step forward after gesturing for the others to pause a moment.

"Kurotsuchi-taichou," she called out, her voice sounding firmer than usual. "I am here for the Arrancar."

The mist stopped, a loud yell coming out of the cell instead. There was the clattering of things just before the creepy captain appeared, rolling a trolley full of tools and god knows what else. He had blood all over his hands.

"Take the damn thing." he snapped as he walked passed them.

Ranza couldn't help but glare at the man as he went along his own way, clearly upset about them being there. Just by looking at him, Ranza didn't like him. He ignored the weird Shinigami for the time being, following Captain Mom.

Unohana appeared displeased when she found that Kurotsuchi had neglected to remove the Bakudo, exerting the effort herself. She knew he was less than compassionate, but there were times when his callousness surprised her. Wrath slumped onto her side once the binding seals had vanished, the mist beginning to dissipate. Her skin was smeared with her own blood, the white fur spattered red. Largo was the first to approach her, showing absolutely no caution or fear.

"Wrath?" he reached out his hand.

One large, clawed hand unfurled from near her neck, the fingers curling around his tiny hand once they had met. She squeezed it as tight as she could, which was very little at the moment.

Now Ranza was the one displeased. By the looks of it, five minutes longer, and the worst case scenario would have been reality. He turned on his heel and took long strides after Kurotsuchi, finding him in his lab. He came upon the captain quickly, grabbing by the back of his uniform and spinning him around. Ranza forced him back against the counter.

"What the _hell_ did you think you were doing? Don't you even give a damn about your own fucking existence?"

"Is this supposed to scare me?" he was less than impressed.

"Did you not see how she nearly took out an entire quarter of this place? And that was just from Jingle-jerk breaking a chunk of her mask!"

"I was there, you twit," he pushed against Ranza, finding himself unable to move him.

"Then riddle me this, Dr. Rockso; how big is the bang going to be if you kill her? She is dyed in the wool, bad to the bone, to her very last cell, _nothing but rage_! If she's not alive to keep all that in check, we're talking about a disaster of biblical proportions!"

"You're the last person I deserve a lecture from. Now get off." and he gave the Arrancar a hard shove, freeing himself. "Just because Captain-Commander hasn't ordered you dead yet doesn't give you the authority to come in here and brow beat me. Do you honestly think me so simple as to not discover the possibility of a larger combustion?"

"I most certainly do, ya damn yo-yo," Ranza grumbled.

"Get the hell out of my lab!"

"Wonderful idea," came Unohana's voice. "We were just leaving."

Kurotsuchi watched Unohana's vice-captain lead the other Shinigami out, carrying Wrath with them. He then looked back to Unohana with all the contempt he could muster to show on his face.

"I suggest you keep your distance from _all_ of the Arrancars from now on, Mayuri-san." she took a chance on using his name, meaning her suggestion was actually quite mandatory.

"You do not scare me, Unohana," he snapped.

Her face darkened. "Then why do you sweat?" she then gestured for Ranza to follow her as she left the compound.

_"Damn that woman,"_ he chanted angrily, his fists tightly clenched like his jaw.

_(II)_

Ulquiorra had been feeling strange, while Orihime appeared to be floating on a cloud nine feet off the ground. There was a sense of whimsy about her behavior, a chipper "good morning" and a smooch on the cheek suddenly seeming normal. It was like the incident from the week before never happened. On the one hand, Ulquiorra was glad she had calmed down, on the other hand, her sudden inhibition towards physical contact with him was effecting him.

Since coming back to the living world, Ulquiorra had become accustomed to the strange nuances of his new body. The need to sleep, the need to scratch itches, morning wood, you know, the usual things. But those usual things had begun to get a little unusual. Sleeping was starting to be difficult to acquire without Orihime being close by. He was doing fine for now, but there was no telling how long he'd be able to stand being awake until the wee hours of the morning. The itches weren't as easily scratched. They were a different kind of itch, an itch only her presence could scratch. So, with that being said, do I even need to address the morning wood situation? Well, let me say that it was no longer a morning ailment. If he could so much as sense her nearby, it was a constant, all day endeavor. Thank god denim was good at hiding such involuntary things. Even her scent was filling him with a degree of twitterpation that he couldn't quite understand. His heart seemed to enjoy it, his mind was in a state of self-loathing.

_What a strange thing, this heart._

He was on the couch, watching a foreign channel broadcasting a live performance of _Don Giovanni_. No, he didn't understand Italian in the slightest bit, but the music was very fascinating, making his heart twist and race from time to time. Hadagi was sitting on the arm next to him, watching Ulquiorra's hands as they moved systematically to fold a piece of paper into shape. He was still so hooked on origami. Somehow, by some unseen force, he eventually made a bird of paradise flower. Even the cat looked baffled.

Suddenly the power blinked out, followed by a peal of thunder. Ulquiorra looked up, the house dark, he could hear a heavy rain pounding on the roof and windows. Hadagi jumped down from the sofa and immediately began to run madly about the house, his pitter-pattering frantic and blurry. Why? Maybe he was bored.

It wasn't long after that first loud boom that Orihime woke, coming out into the living room in her pajamas and stifling a yawn.

"My goodness, what a storm!" she exclaimed softly, looking out the window between the living room and the kitchen. "I thought it would still be a week or two before the bad weather came."

"Is this not a common occurrence?"

"Just not this early in the year." she shook her head. "We'll have to wait for the power to come back on before I can make breakfast."

Ulquiorra nodded, not minding the delay. He wasn't hungry just yet anyhow. What he did mind was the stirring in his loins, which had begun again at the sight of her. Was this a normal thing for humans? Honestly? How do they manage from day to day with such an annoyance? By the looks of it there were women everywhere; did men have a safe refuge from it? If so, would _he_ be able to find it?

Orihime came to sit on the couch beside him certainly didn't help. He shifted in his seat, crossing his leg over the other.

"Did you make this?" she had reached across him to reach for the origami flower on the table. "It's very nice."

"Thank you," his heart fluttered at her praise. "You may keep it."

There was indifference in his voice, but all the same she took his gesture happily. "Thank you."

He liked to see her happy, her smiled pleased him. All he could manage was a nod, his eyes threatening to roll back as her weight pressed into his lap. Oh sweet lord, what torture is this? Curse this heart! It was currently trying to run a marathon behind his ribcage, and showing no signs of slowing. He could smell her, feel her warmth seeping through his clothes.

"Ulquiorra, are you okay?"

He hadn't realized his head fell back, his eyes closed, and he was biting his bottom lip. He lifted his head. "Yes. I'm fine." was all he could force himself to say.

"Are you sure?" she looked quite concerned. "What's wrong?"

Did this silly woman not realize her hands were mere inches away from a particular part of him he would rather she not touch for fear of...things happening?

"Onna, you are practically laying on me." he managed.

"Oh, sorry," she recoiled, settling back into where she had been sitting. For a moment things were awkward. Was that a slight redness to Ulquiorra's face? No, it had to be a trick of the light. Then she noticed the cat, glad for the distraction.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, watching him streak across the carpet, the snip-snap of his claws snagging on the fibers.

"I think he is, how you say," he was watching the animal as well, pausing as Hadagi made another lap, "retarded."

"No, no," she laughed. "Maybe the lightning is scaring him." she thought aloud, just as there was another flash and bang. She chanced to look at him again a moment after that. There _was_ a little redness around his cheeks. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes." he said quickly, his heart fluttering. Could it somehow tell when he wasn't being truthful? Nonsense! It was just an organ!

She drew closer to him, her thigh touching his. She leaned forward so she could look into his face. "What is it?" she asked again.

Ulquiorra's brow furrowed. "You're affection. It makes no sense."

She thought about it a moment. In a way he was probably right. She wrung her hands together and shook her head. "It doesn't add up to me either. We've been over this a few times already and I still don't have an answer."

"Will you ever?"

"I don't know." although this lack of certainty didn't appear to bother her, it certainly troubled him. Was there nothing certain when this beating nuisance in his chest was concerned?

"Is that what's bugging you?"

"Perhaps. However, it probably would not if," he paused, thinking whether or not he should finish. What would she think? Would she be disgusted?

"If what?"

"It is not only effecting me emotionally." Amazing that _he_ would speak of such things as emotions! It was near blasphemy!

For a brief second she wasn't entirely sure what he was getting at, but then it hit her. Well, she nodded mentally, that was something to get a little flustered about. Him especially.

"I see." she had to fight the urge to giggle. "That's normal."

He lifted one eyebrow, unaware he was doing it. "It is?"

"Sure." she assured him, patting his hand. "It happens to humans all the time. Even me."

"I suppose I could be considered mostly human now, couldn't I?" he sighed, suddenly feeling less awkward knowing that Onna was just as vulnerable to the heart's pull. "But why do I feel like this?"

"It just happens sometimes. It's rare that someone can really control how they feel about other people. But there are times when people...how do I put this," she thought about it a moment, chewing on the tip of one thumb. Ulquiorra found his gaze drawn to her mouth with the gesture. He licked his lips. "I guess some people just open themselves up, kind of want to feel...attracted to someone. That _is_ what you're talking about, right?"

"Yes," he swallowed, still looking at her mouth. "At least I believe so. There are still some emotions I don't quite know yet, and this is one of them." His mind scrambled for reasons behind his confusion; he could come up with hundreds. Maybe this was happening simply because he found her familiar? But, then again, he was also familiar with Halibel, and there was absolutely no chance of his feeling like this towards her. Perhaps it was because the woman was taking care of him, giving him a sense of security in this still very strange world? Was he feeling obligated? Oh no, was he coming down with what they called Stalkholm Syndrome? No, this woman wasn't exactly his captor...

Suddenly his head was filled with positively lewd images having to do with handcuffs and the woman straddling him in various manners of undress. Why? Because he's a man and that tends to happen. That certainly didn't serve to help his situation.

"Ulquiorra, it's okay." she assured him. "Stop worrying so much. It's all just what comes with having a heart." she smiled, hoping it would ease his concern.

Ulquiorra fought the need to clutch at his chest. The pounding was driving him mad, he had to do something about it. A small bead of sweat rolled down his back when he looked at her, saw her smile. He was drawn to her mouth once again, but only briefly as he could see down the collar of her pajamas. His brows lifted at the sight of her shadowed cleavage. Well, his mind dwelled for a moment, he had been wanting a kiss since he'd woke earlier. Suppose now would be a prudent time?

It came suddenly and without warning. Orihime shuddered when she felt his hands on her face, holding her still as he crushed his lips against hers. A squeak left her throat just before she was able to recover and relax into it. Her hands circled his forearms and she sighed, having to tell herself that this was okay.

Ulquiorra found that he was most assuredly growing addicted to kissing. He was hungry afterward for hours. He could barely stand to be around the woman for more than a few moments before chancing to ask for more. And when she would give it, he took what he could until he was satisfied. This time was no different. He was willing to simply devour her, his tongue suddenly starting to tease at her bottom lip. Orihime had the resist the urge to giggle; this was the first time he'd tried using his tongue. She gently circled her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer as his hands slid down her neck. Her core twisted when his hot palms settled over her breasts and his tongue pressed through the small allowance her mouth had made for him. Her breath hitched as his warmth filled her mouth, his body leaning to encourage her onto her back.

A wicked thrill shot through her as he settled between her legs, letting his arms bear his weight as he hovered inches over her. The kiss finally ceased as he lifted himself upward, his face reddened and his eyes showing his profound surprise.

"Onna," he breathed. "What...what am I feeling?" he almost sounded frightened.

Orihime could feel that she was blushing hard, her heart pounding in her chest and her breaths short and quick. After several seconds she realized she couldn't answer him. Why? Who knows. In the end Ulquiorra returned to his seat, looking somewhat ashamed of what he'd done. Perhaps he wasn't in favor of losing his self control like that?

Orihime sat up, pulling on her pajama top in an almost nervous fashion. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing." he quickly said, suddenly taking a sheet of paper from the coffee table and beginning to fold it.

"Ulquiorra," she frowned a little. "Don't shut me out."

"I do not wish to talk about it right now. Please."

"Oh, okay." she nodded, relinquishing to his request. Seconds later the lights flickered back on, the television waking once again to the near end of the opera. It wasn't long after that when Hadagi calmed down and jumped into Orihime's lap, demanding she scratch his belly. Ulquiorra glared at the animal from the corner of his eyes, almost hating the smug look on the cat's face.

Then, much to everyone's surprise, there was a knock at the door. Orihime went to answer it, wondering how anyone could stand to be out in this weather. Sure, the storm had lessened, but not by much.

"Yoruichi-san! Please, come in,"

"Thanks,"

The dark skinned shape shifter did not appear to be herself. She looked to be carrying a great weight on her shoulders and very tired. Water dripped from her hair and chin, like she'd been out in this storm for hours. Orihime offered her a seat, which Yoruichi declined, saying she wasn't intending to stay long.

"I just wanted to come by, see if you'd heard anything." she shivered a little in her wet clothing.

"About Urahara-san? No." Orihime regrettably shook her head. "Have you not checked with Soul Society?"

"No, why would I?"

"Didn't Ichigo tell you? That was the last place he was seen." Orihime was surprised Yoruichi didn't know. Normally she knew everything before anyone else did.

"No, I haven't seen him much either." she shook her head. "I'll be damned, why didn't I think of that?" Yoruichi looked thoroughly disappointed in herself. "I guess I didn't because...well, I was with him the night before he disappeared, said he'd just come back from there, so I never guessed that's where he was. Halibel and Starrk are gone too."

"Maybe they're in Soul Society also. They might know what happened."

"I suppose so." Yoruichi nodded. Then she put a hand to her forehead. "I just have such a bad feeling. I know Kisuke can handle himself well enough, but...something about all this just isn't right."

"Please, Yoruichi-san, stay a while." Orihime pleaded, having a sense that she was in no real condition to be out and about right now.

"You know, I think I will." she finally relented.

"I'll put on some tea." Orihime nodded.

Yoruichi stepped into the living room, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around herself before sitting down. Ulquiorra nodded to her, acknowledging her presence but doing little else. Hadagi then appeared, sitting on the coffee table with his tail slowly swishing back and forth as he stared at the new visitor.

It was a moment or two before Yoruichi realized the animal was there, her eyes lifting to look back at it. She found herself staring a long time, sensing something was a little...off. She lifted an eyebrow, watching as the cat mimicked the motion. She cocked her head to one side, again the animal copied her. When she stuck out her tongue and he copied her again, she was certain this was no ordinary pet. She reached and scruffed the cat behind the neck, carrying him into the kitchen.

"Hime-chan,"

"What's the matter?" she turned, looking down right confused. "Did he scratch you?"

"He's no cat." Yoruichi said.

Orihime looked back and forth between her and Hadagi. "That doesn't...what do you mean?" she almost laughed.

"Do you know anything about this, Ulquiorra?" Yoruichi called over her shoulder. The Arrancar came into the room, nodding his head.

"He threatened our safety, so I remained quiet."

"Is that so?" Out with it, puddy." Yoruichi glared at the animal now thrashing and hissing in her grasp.

"This is crazy, leave him alone!"

"Come on now, speak up," Yoruichi had stated to shake Hadagi. Orihime was within an inch of doing something violently nasty to her guest.

"Okay, okay, cripes!" and there stood Grimmjow, Yoruichi still grasping his neck. "Are you happy now?"

Orihime recoiled, her hands over her eyes as she suddenly realized the Arrancar was naked as a newborn. Then, within the blink of an eye, her embarrassment shifted into anger. One might say she flew into a rage.

"You dirty pervert, you were in my underwear!" she shouted, lashing and socking Grimmjow in the face. He stumbled back with an angry bark of pain. "You've seen me naked you filthy, scum -sucking slime ball!" She hit him again and he fell against the kitchen counter, sliding to the floor. A drawer handle caught in his emptiness and his body seized up; it was so painful for all his weight pushing on such a sensitive place.

"Christ, pet-sama, calm down, I'm sorry!" he coiled into half a ball to protect himself from the woman.

Yoruichi had to grab Orihime to keep her from doing worse to him. "You call me that again and I'll-!"

"Take it easy, Hime," Yoruichi pulled her back, refusing to let go until she had taken a few breaths and calmed down. "So what are you doing here?" she looked down at the blue-haired Arrancar.

"I just wanted a safe place to hide, that's all." he swore as if is life depended on it. In a way, it did. "If I wanted any trouble I would've started some by now."

"This is true." if anyone knew Grimmjow, it was Ulquiorra. "Though you have never seemed the type to hide."

"You do what you have to do." he replied, chancing to stand up. "Everyone in Hueco Mundo is convinced I'm dead, which is fine by me, but I needed to find somewhere else to stay." The look he read on Orihime's face clearly stated she wasn't in the mood for any excuse he could give.

"All right, everyone, just cool your jets." Yoruichi put herself between them. "He hasn't done any harm yet. With that being said, I'd be willing to guess that as long as he behaves," she glared over her shoulder at the Arrancar, "we won't be on Soul Society's hit list. Is that fair for everyone?"

Grimmjow was quick to agree. Sure, he couldn't handle himself, but this was such a sweet setup that he couldn't bear the thought of having to relocate.

"Hime?"

She didn't like it, but she didn't have a whole lot of room to argue. Going along with this would keep the Shinigami away, if just for a little while longer. To be honest, she wasn't going to trust Ichigo with her secret, and knew he would spill it eventually. At this point she was willing to help herself any way she could.

"Fine. But no more going in my room!" Orihime thrust a finger at Grimmjow, pointed and sharp. "Or I'll throw you under a bus."

Grimmjow swallowed, nodding, knowing she meant it. "You got it."

"Now, if you can handle being alone for more than five minutes, I'm going to go back to the shop. I'll go to Soul Society tomorrow."

"You're sure? You're more than welcome to stay here for the night." Orihime offered.

"It looks like you've got your hands full as it is," she exchanged glances between the two Arrancar. "Just keep in touch should anything happen."

"Okay. I will."

"You. _Behave_." Yoruichi pointed at Grimmjow. And before she left she whispered to Ulquiorra. "Keep a close eye on him."

He nodded quietly in reply. Once Yoruichi had gone, a shroud of tension filled the house. It was just a weird feeling that no one seemed to like very much. The three of them stood like statues for several minutes, until Orihime finally shook her head.

"I'll make breakfast." she shrugged.

"Awesome, I'm starving!" Grimmjow purred just before Ulquiorra encouraged him back into the living room.

"Could you not just remain a cat?" he asked as he took his seat.

"Nah, not that I'm already out of the bag," Grimmjow laughed to himself, sitting also. "Besides, you ever seen a cat try to rub one out? No; you wanna know why? No thumbs."

"You are disgusting." Ulquiorra shook his head, trying to distract himself with more paper folding.

"And you're a sissy virgin." he sneered, reaching for the remote. He started surfing the channels, most likely looking for something with nudity in it, at the very least some violence. "So when did pet-sama grow a pair?"

"Do not call her that. For your own sake if nothing else. But it is only recently I have noticed her temper. I can only assume that her time in Las Noches is the cause of it."

"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Shit the bed, there's nothing on! Hey, Jeopardy!"

"I fail to see how a show on trivia would entertain you."

"I just like to laugh at the fuckers who lose."

Ulquiorra shook his head, trying to ignore the oh so obnoxious man. Orihime stepped into the room some few minutes later, standing right in the middle of Grimmjow's view.

"What's the deal? It's final Jeopardy!"

"A few rules." Orihime began, her hands fisted on her hips. "You will cover yourself." she grabbed a pillow and shoved it into Grimmjow's lap. "Second, watch your language. Third, the two of you will get along; no arguing or anything else. And if you can't handle that, you can just stay a cat for all I care."

"Jesus, lady, you're breaking my balls!" Grimmjow groaned.

"Be glad that's just a metaphor." and she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"I guess she told you." Ulquiorra almost snickered.

"Actually, now that I think about it," he grinned. "She's pretty hot when she's mad."

Ulquiorra's expression, what little he had of one, fell flat. In his effort to pay no attention to the hot bubbling in his stomach, he set to folding a most complicated seeming chrysanthemum. It would only eat up a few minutes, but that was a few minutes he wasn't thinking about Grimmjow. The rest of the day would go about this way. He was almost thankful when darkness came, everyone preparing to go to bed. He was happy to get away from Grimmjow, but found himself pausing in the doorway of the bedroom at the sound of the Arrancar's voice. It made his brow tighten in a way one would read as disapproval. He turned around to see Grimmjow at Orihime's door.

"Goodnight, Grimmjow." she said resolutely, meaning to shut the door once he got out of the way.

"Come on," he smiled. "Can't you just give me a minute? Look, I'm sorry I had to lie to you."

"Then why are you doing it again?" she was looking rather frustrated.

"Give me a break; like you wouldn't have done the same?"

"No."

Girmmjow shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess you got me there. Look...can't I come in? I'll even change back into Grimm-kitty."

"No."

"_Please_!" almost begged.

"Why?" she was _this_ close to shutting the door on his face.

"Because I love your tits! I do! You spoiled me!" he confessed, his hands pantomiming a squeezing motion.

"Go. To. Bed." and then she closed the door, not caring if he was in the way. "And don't scratch at the door all night."

"Or you'll what?" he grinned, always thrilled to call the bluff.

"I'll call Ichigo."

"Shit." Grimmjow growled. "Come on, pet...lady! You know you love the kitty! Just for tonight!" When there was no answer he gave up, turning on his heels in a huff. Before going back to the living room, meaning to sleep on the couch, he noticed Ulquiorra down the hall.

"What are you staring at, limp dick?"

Ulquiorra's features flinched before he firmly closed his door, locking it for a reason he wasn't sure of, the same reason that he stirred and tossed about restlessly all night long.

_(III)_

Rukia shrugged as she turned the corner. Just one more hour and she could go to bed. She hated the night watch, but it was her turn on the rotation so there was no arguing about it. Not to mention it was preparing to rain again; she was already able to hear thunder and see flickers of light in the clouds. This past week had been so..long. At least it certainly felt like that. She didn't realize until about the third day after he had gone home how strange things were without Ichigo being around. She had honestly never expected to miss him this much. The feeling lingered as a tightness in her chest that bordered on painful, it took every ounce of her will just to focus beyond it and go on with her daily duties. In the end she would simply shake her head and shrug.

It was just beginning to rain when relief came. Rukia hurried back to her barracks, caring little that she got wet, dripping as she walked down the hallway to her room. She jumped a little when she shut the door, hearing a particularly close crack of thunder.

With the lights still out she went about hanging up her dampened uniform. She didn't dress for bed, to tired to care as she slid under the covers naked. Her head hit the pillow and her eyes closed. Sleep was quick to descend, but not quick enough to keep her from feeling the mattress shift just so behind her. A large hand slid over her mouth and kept her from speaking.

"Hush, it's just me."

"Ichigo? What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I missed you," her replied quietly. "I wanted to see you."

Her eyelids began to flutter as he placed soft kisses along the bend of her neck. His arms circled her and held her tightly. One of his hands cupped her breast.

"Is this all you came for?" she asked. "Then you're gone again?"

"I could stay all night if you'd like." he purred, nipping at her earlobe. "Whatever you want, just tell me. It's yours."

How tempting, she thought. Ichigo was certainly in rare form this evening. It almost, _almost_, struck her as odd. But her suspicions were quickly dismissed, his fingers curling between her legs garnering her full attention.

She asked him to stay, and in the pitch blackness they made love until they were unable to do so any longer. And in the darkness, Rukia never noticed the small beauty mark by Ichigo's mouth.

_(–)_

"You were starting to really stink," the little parasite chided as it crawled out of the leg sitting on the foot of the bed.

"Yeah, come off it." Ranza ran his hands through his wet hair, sitting down on the bed. "You don't exactly smell like roses and puppy breath either."

"Why would I want to smell like that?"

"Everybody loves puppy breath. Or something like that." Ranza shook his head. "I don't know."

"That's just silly." the worm said after a moment. "What about this freak storm?"

"Something about it feels kind of funny, doesn't it?" Ranza pulled up the helm of the towel, exposing his stump. He started to rub as if it hurt, but it didn't. It was just a habit to keep the blood circulating in it so there would be no further decay.

"Lookin' good," the worm said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Thanks." Ranza rolled his eyes, but then thought about. The old wound didn't look all that bad. It had seen far rougher days. Most of the scarring was minor or vanished completely, although it still swelled from time to time from being in the prosthesis. It had calloused over years ago, but it wasn't rough, just thick and paler than the rest of him.

With that done Ranza pulled his pants on, leaving the false leg where it was. He was intending to go to bed in just a moment anyhow. He balanced on one leg as he pulled back the blankets.

Then there was a knock and a gentle inquiry. "Ranza, could I come in?"

Ranza lifted his head, steadying himself on the foot of the bed. "Sure." He couldn't help but grin when Nel stepped inside.

"I know its late," she said apologetically. "Couldn't get to sleep."

Ranza noticed she wasn't in uniform, but in plain pajamas. He preferred them, how they better showed her figure. "I don't mind. It's not like I had anything better to do." he said. "Stay as long as you'd like."

"Thank you." she giggled a little. "Where's Largo?" she looked around, suddenly noticing the little Arrancar was nowhere to be found.

"With Captain Mom, probably." he sat down. "She's taking a real shine to him. Either that or he's with Wrath."

"I thought she hated everyone." Nel crossed the room and sat in the chair beside the bed. "I'm surprised she didn't kill the little guy."

"From what he's told me, he'd been living in that forest for some time now and she's never done him any harm." Ranza seemed just as surprised to say that as Nel was to hear it. "Beats the hell out of me."

"I guess there's more to Wrath than Aizen led us to believe."

Ranza only nodded, his mind wandering back several decades, maybe a century. He recalled what Aizen had said, that she was nothing more than a stupid beast. And, too, he remembered how each of the Espada went to challenge her. It was more or less an unspoken rule that you weren't truly one of the top ten unless you fought Wrath at least once. Ranza couldn't think of anyone who had chose to do it twice. Still, considering what he had seen for himself, Aizen wasn't really lying, he was just telling too simple a truth. Arrancar had never been simple creatures.

"I can only imagine what he put her through." Nel looked at the floor, crestfallen.

"At least she wasn't trapped in that damn palace like the rest of us." Ranza scooted a little closer to her. "I swear, I hope that place goes up in flames one day."

"You really hated it, didn't you?" She looked at him curiously.

"I don't say it to hear myself talk." he fell back onto the pillows, his hands behind his head. "Never liked it."

"It couldn't have been all that bad. You were the prince, after all."

"Don't care about that either." he shook his head. "It was all a load of bullshit anyway. All it meant was that I would be next in line to kiss Aizen's ass after the old bastard kicked it."

Neliel almost cringed at the bitterness in his voice. He really _did_ hate it.

"Who killed him anyway?" he asked.

"Soifon-taichou."

"Really? Cell phone did it? Huh, never would've guessed. Well, I suppose as long as it's done. Remind me to thank her." he laughed a little.

For a long while Nel simply looked at him, watched his bare chest rise and fall with breath, traced the creases in his face with her eyes. She saw his number peaking from beneath his fiery hair and curiosity got the better of her. She gently reached and pushed his bangs aside, touching the tail of one of the three nines with the tips of her fingers.

Ranza felt her touch and exhaled, his eyes closing. His heart twisted as his hand moved to cover hers. He shivered at her warmth, the softness of her hand. Neliel felt heat blooming in her body, starting near her heart. It blossomed when Ranza opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You know," he began, "the first time I saw you, I didn't know what to think." he grinned at her surprised expression. "Then I noticed this," he slowly reached up and touched the Stigmata, tracing it with his first two fingers from cheek to cheek.

"You thought I was funny looking?" she smirked.

"Oh no, no, no." he quickly answered. "Not at all. It just made me curious really. I like it, actually. Never seen anything like it."

She giggled.

"You know, I could have had any woman I wanted." he sounded quite serious at the moment, his hand still lingering against her cheek. "But, after a while I realized I didn't want just any woman. I wanted someone...special. Shit, it got to the point where I couldn't stand for another man to even look at you."

"Ranza," she tried to argue but found no legitimate reason.

Ranza sat up. "I wanted to take you with me. I wanted nothing more than to take you away from there and..."

"And what?" she terribly wanted to hear the rest of that thought.

"Aw hell, I'm just running my mouth." he laughed and shook his head. "You probably think I'm crazy." He looked up at her, grinning when he noticed her blushing.

Neliel was thinking a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them. Although it was a little troubling when she couldn't quite focus on one thought or another. How come she never noticed his obviously extensive infatuation with her? Maybe because she was trying to ignore him most of the time...that was probably it. She didn't want a prince, she just wanted a man, and by the looks of it, she was going to get her way. All she had to do was ask.

"You think I'm a stalker, don't you?"

"No, I don't." she shook her head. "You're just different."

"I guess I could live with that." Ranza nodded, sounding only slightly shot down. No, she didn't think he was stalker, but...

"Don't look so sad," she laughed. "I like different."

Squiddy crawled out of his burrow in the marrow just in time to see Nel put her hands to Ranza's face and pull him forward, gently forcing his lips against hers. At first his partner's eyes were wide and he shuddered, but that quickly changed. Ranza reacted in the classic fashion; his arms stole around her waist, pulling her out of the chair onto the bed. From the worm's point of view, it looked like there was a real danger of them devouring each other's face. Still, it looked like they were enjoying it, so all he did was grin and crawl back into his hole.

Author's Note: Bah, this is taking forever. I dunno what happened, but the last bit of this drove me crazy. I was drunk when I wrote some of it, so bear with me if it got a little retarded in places.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"_Who were you once that now through many wounds breathes a grieving sermon with your blood?"_

_The Inferno: Canto XIII, Verses 137-138_

Since the incident involving the ice giant, Soul Society had been in a state of ill ease, but that, I would imagine, goes without saying. Every Shinigami and deputy had been put on standby, to be ready at a moment's notice should the need arise. The days leading up to the present were tense and uncertain, like a shadow hung over the place. Even now, with two more Arrancar inhabiting Seireitei and Urahara's sudden disappearance, the weight of the air appeared to continuously grow. Repairs were still active in several areas, though were steadily nearing completion.

Kurotsuchi-taichou had since gotten over his feelings of indignation towards Unohana for taking the Arrancar from him. He had better things to do than dwell on it, and once he had repaired Nemu he was able to get back those things. The samples he had gathered from the Arrancar were just begging to be played with and prodded. Over the course of a week he was able to discover something that made him giggle. Yes, giggle. Frightening, I know. Kurotsuchi found that the Arrancar's genetic and spiritual code was more or less blank, like stem cells if you want to put it that way. At first he thought this to be absolute nonsense, but then he thought about it some more. Chances are, even in the beginning, Aizen wasn't so foolish; he would've known something like this wouldn't be able to survive. With that being said, he found the method behind the supposed stupidity. Like stem cells, it could be programmed by the brain to perform or compensate for any function, such as regrowing injured tissue or providing some sort of deterrent for a predator.

This is what made him laugh; he could program these cells himself to create almost anything. He would have start out small, taking baby steps and using guinea pigs, but in the end, he could only imagine what he could do.

_(–)_

Nanao was finally given permission to return to Eighth Squad under the stipulation that she be restricted to light duty. The injuries she had sustained a week previous consisted of a moderate concussion, four broken ribs, and a collapsed lung, not to mention a small array of scrapes and bruises. Now that was feeling somewhat well, at least able to stand on her own, she insisted on being discharged.

Carefully she put on her uniform, mindful of the bandages so snugly wrapped about her torso. Too deep a breath or far and sudden a movement would cause her ribs to pinch with pain. The back of her head still throbbed, tender to the touch and slightly swollen. It wasn't long after that Isane came with the proper papers for to sign, finalizing her release.

Nanao took her time returning to Eighth Squad, thinking it be best to not push herself too hard so soon. She was only slightly short of breath when she arrived, ignoring it the best she could as she made her way to Kyouraku-taichou's office. She gently knocked on his door, waiting for permission to enter.

"Captain?" She was very surprised to see him at his desk, appearing to be actually working. Kyouraku stood, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste to do so. He quickly crossed the floor, surrounding her in an almost desperate embrace. He held her close against him, close but gentle.

"You should have let me know," he said softly. "I would have come for you."

"I'm not cripple." she replied, her brow tightened against his chest.

"I know, I know," he nodded. "But I am supposed to look after you."

"Sir, please," she was worried, since when was he so...serious? She heard him sniff and was concerned that he might actually start crying.

Kyouraku cradled her against him, his hand curled along her neck, mindful of the bump just inches above it. He bit his lip hard against a surge of guilt, one that had been gnawing away at him for days. He knew he was responsible for Nanao, but now more than ever was he actually starting to feel, now it was actually getting through his head. It was up to him to keep her safe, and a week ago he had failed so miserably it made his body ache right down to the marrow. Being under the influence of the red mist had brought this to his attention, much to his own surprise. It had filled him to the brim with rage and hatred, a hatred, he realized, directed at himself.

It forced him to see the poor excuse for a captain he was, how much of a disgusting layabout he allowed himself to be. Nanao did nearly everything for him, and he didn't care; he couldn't even keep up with the seemingly simple task of protecting her from harm. And now he hated himself for it. After he returned to the barracks, once Unohana had finally convinced him that Nanao would be fine and he could leave in confidence, he swore things would be different. He would do better, be the captain she expected him to be.

"Come now," he said as he pulled back, his hands still on her shoulders. "Off to bed. I'll bring you some tea."

"Sir, I just got out of bed!" she argued. "I'm sure to be behind on my work!"

"Never mind that, I've been taking care of it." he smiled, scooping her up in his arms.

So he really _had_ been working. "Still...I can walk."

"No more arguing, Nanao-chan. Captain's orders." and the little pinch he gave her pert buttocks managed to silence her.

_(–)_

Many of the Shinigami in Fourth Squad were puzzled when Wrath was brought in some seven days ago. All of them were on edge, many of them with their hands already on their Zanpakuto, expecting nothing short of a war. Imagine their amazement when that didn't happen, quite the opposite actually. In fact, the few that had seen the Arrancar before would swear up and down that she had been much larger, much more imposing than it now appeared. Even Ranza had commented on how he sensed a noticeable change.

For safety's sake Unohana asked for Hitsugaya-taichou, the other of only three men allowed near Wrath, and Rukia Kuchiki to be present, having observed the adverse effects ice had on the Arrancar. She thought it best to have them nearby, just in case. Everyone in the squad seemed to be more at ease seeing as such measures had been taken. Just before leaving to tend to her other duties, Unohana made it clear that Wrath was to be treated as a patient and consistently supervised until further notice. She would have further details for them later, but until then they had their work cut out for them.

It was rather surprising to find someone underneath all the fur and filth. Much of the fur had to be cut away and disposed of as they found it infested with several colonies of Hollow parasites and insects; the last thing Soul Society needed was an infestation of the things. This left Wrath practically naked.

Once that was done they managed the remaining chain links from her mask, which had changed since part of it had been severed like her body had. Before she had easily reached seven feet tall, now she just crossed six foot five. Like the mask had seemed to recede-now rough edged and toothless- revealing her face, she herself had appeared to shrink.

With the chains gone, the caregivers of Fourth Squad wracked their brains for a way to get the bands of steel off. Sure, they could be severed with a well managed swing of a Zanpakuto, but that was unanimously dismissed as a not-so-good idea. Something like that would be asking for trouble. In the end, with no better ideas, they resorted to using the strongest acid Twelfth Squad would surrender to them, using it one drop at a time until the metal was undone. Everything after that was routine, and came somewhat easily.

Many of the Shinigami approached the Arrancar as one would approach a patient that was mentally disturbed, cautiously but with compassion. This was easily done since she did indeed show similar behavior, in fact some of them were convinced she was catatonic. Wrath appeared awake, her tired amber eyes open, but she made no move in reaction to them. This was a relief for the others who were still quite frightened to be close to her. Perhaps she simply wasn't feeling threatened. Hitsugaya-taichou was just outside the door and out of sight, Ranza was long gone, but Largo was allowed to stay. Rumor had it the Arrancar took to the smaller one, so perhaps he was more of a help than everyone thought.

She was bathed, and all of her claws were trimmed to a less dangerous length. Her hair was washed along with the swatch of fur that came from the back of the mask and covered her to the shoulders. The fur was white, and her hair was the same darkened crimson of the Rage Aura. She was actually beginning to look somewhat normal as they dried her off and dressed her in a simple white kimono, just something to keep her covered. With all that now finished they put her in a room in the Quarantine Ward, where those with contagious illnesses were usually kept. Largo had wanted to stay with her but was kept back. Isane promise she would bring him back later, convincing him that it would best if she was left alone for the time being.

And for the next week Wrath was quiet, seeming awake but not really there.

_(–)_

Ranza hated having to see Nel leave so quickly that morning, he was enjoying her company far too much. She had chose to stay that night, never mind that he gave her the puppy eyes when he asked her, and all the way through to dawn she said he was snuggling up to her in his sleep. He almost couldn't believe how easily he slept last night, knowing she was right there beside him, her scent still fresh in his memory. He liked it and woke to find himself feeling better than ever. Even Squiddy's mouth couldn't ruin his day.

He put on his leg and stepped out of his room, intending to go a few doors down to speak with Starrk and Halibel. He felt the need to ask them again about Urahara's disappearance. There had to be something he was missing, as he tended to do from time to time. Ranza knocked, listening, and hearing nothing. He tried it again, still heard nothing, so he chanced to open the door, ready or not. Apparently not.

"Whoops!" he gasped and then quickly slammed the door shut. Needless to say those two weren't in a state to receive visitors, and probably wouldn't be for a while. Ranza put his hands over his eyes, maybe as a last hope to keep the fresh mental image from being burned permanently into his retinas.

"Were they doing what it sounded like they were doing?" Squiddy didn't actually didn't see anything, as he was much closer to the floor.

"Yup," he nodded. "Textbook example of the hunka-chunka. Ugh, I can't unsee it."

"It's okay, boss-man, just think of that stacked hottie from last night."

Oh yeah, that made everything all better. Oh yes.

Ranza was planning to go back to his room, or maybe go sit outside for a while. He'd been cooped up all week. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Just as he stepped away from the door he had to pause to spare himself from being run over by a pair of kids no more than hip high. He almost tripped over them.

"Hey, lazy bones, what's the hurry?"

Largo skid to a stop, turning on his heel. "Me and Yachiru are going to go play, wanna come with us?"

Ranza lifted an eyebrow, taking the few steps needed to stand beside his little friend. "You mean you're actually going to go outside and do some form of physical activity?"

"No, we're going to go play. Get it right."

"My mistake," he laughed. Ranza lifted his head, noticing the little Shinigami with pink hair.

"Isn't she cute?"

The other brow lifted. "Wait a minute there, pal, just what are you saying?" he smirked knowingly. "You getting twitterpated on me?"

"I dunno, all I know is that a nap is the last thing I want right now." Largo was grinning from ear to ear.

"Holy shit." Squiddy bubbled.

"Well, squirt, I won't keep you from your date so-," before he could finish Largo was gone. "Never mind."

"Didn't even say goodbye," the worm sighed. "I guess that happens when chicks get involved." by his tone you would think he was directing that towards someone. "Hmm?"

"What are you complaining about?" Ranza glared at his leg as he began walking back towards his room.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you were talking to me now? Nice to know I'm still useful when you don't have tits to play with."

"Quit your bitching, grub." he groaned. "There's nothing wrong with me wanting to spend time with someone other than you every once in a while. I've had nothing but you for the last...how many years?"

"I lost count."

"Well there you go. Would you feel better if I asked Nel to hold you?"

"Yes." the grub said resolutely, making the leg jerk to the side, nearly making Ranza fall. "Right there in between the ladies. Oh yeah."

"You're sick."

"I'm needy." Gusano corrected. "Speaking of which, are there any hot nurses here?"

"No." Ranza rolled his eyes.

"Can we go look for some?"

"No."

"Well...then...can we go find some hot girls and dress them up like nurses?" Ranza could almost hear the growing smirk in the parasite's voice. "It'll be fun..."

"Stop it."

"Then I demand you get me dirty magazines!" he shouted almost too loud, making several Shinigami turn their heads.

"Would you shut up?" he shoved the false leg into a wall, rattling the little dirty worm in his den. "Stop being like this! I'll do what I can, okay?"

"Good. I like red heads and blondes." He was so smug in his burrow, never even imagining that Ranza was really planning to shove him in the nearest toilet and flush.

_(II)_

"I'll be damned." Ciego shook his head, seeming rather impressed. "How did it happen?"

Azar crossed his arms. "Not entirely sure just yet. My guess so far is that the jewel gathers energy into it and then exchanges it with other objects. How the energy procures sentience is beyond me."

Azar's golden statues were moving on their own, the same machines he thought he would never repair. They had a life of their own, moving of their own accord, even able to speak in a voice that sounded like someone calling into a tunnel. Perhaps the most outrageous thing about this occurrence was who the entities inhabiting the robots were claiming to be.

"If I had but a few moments to question Urahara, I could better ascertain the function of this jewel. It is, after all, his toy we are playing with."

"A valid point, brother. I will order Bordell to release Urahara and he can have a look at these creations of yours. The smaller of the statues does not hold my interest as far as the other. If its claims hold weight, our dreams and plans are well ruined. While I am gone, see if that jewel reacts to any more of your treasures." Ciego commanded.

Azar bowed, and Ciego turned and walked out of the the lab. As soon as his brother was out of sight, Azar growled under his breath. They were equals. He, Ciego, and Valia were equals. Yet Ciego insisted on treating he and his sister like peasants.

"Underling!" Azar shouted, and his Fraccion slid out of the shadows, his head and eyes lowered. "I have need for recreation. Something to break aside from Ciego's skull."

He picked up an old boat oar carved to the likeness of a sword and commanded his Fraccion to throw an old ceramic plate at him. The oar sword easily took care of the plate. After smashing twelve plates, his anger settled. It was only then that he glanced down at the shards of plate. Among them he noticed a pure white shard covered in intricate blue artwork.

"You fool..." he said to his minion. "You were to throw the cheap dishes only, you fool!" He swung the oar hard and swift and caught the young man across the jaw, sending him to the floor. Azar jabbed a finger at the broken plate fragments. "Hand-painted German porcelain. Two hundred and fifty years old, older than you are or will ever be if you continue to ruin my collection, you spineless, fatherless son of a whore dog!" The Fraccion moved from his back to his knees, his arms, face and chest pressed to the floor in a gesture of obedience and submission.

"Forgive me, master. I meant no..."

"Did I give you permission to speak!" Azar brought the oar down on the back of his slave's head. The oar shattered and Azar looked at the splinters in horror. "Look what you made me do! Hand carved by Miyamoto Musashi! What else of mine do you intend to destroy? Da Vinci's blueprints of Venice? The Stone of Destiny? Why don't we melt down a few gold bricks from the foundations of Cibola? Hell, we might as well melt down the robots! The moment Ciego finds out, he can put you out of my misery, and I'd be inclined to let him!" He knelt down next to the young man. "It took countless hours of meticulous planning, jumping in and out of the human world; do you really want to destroy any more of what I worked so hard to procure?" The Fraccion shook his head.

"Good, now to tend to my current project." He turned to get back to the robots and he came face to face with one. It was the smaller of the two, yet he had deemed this one the most dangerous. The larger seemed more contemplative and analytical, but the smaller was more prone to bursts of violence and vulgarity.

"What's this talk of meltin' us down?" it asked, somehow able to meld the gold of its face into a wide smile. It seemed almost impossibly wide, considering that the robot was not crafted with a mouth and had only developed one after exposure to Urahara's gem. "If you're going to be like that, then I may have to kill you right now." Its golden hands moved up, slowly. Although the robots were mobile, their movements were sluggish, as though the spirits inside weren't quite used to their bodies yet. The hands were about to close around Azar's neck when he knocked them away.

"You will do no such thing," Azar said. "I created you, I command you."

"No one commands me!" The robot shouted. "No one commands Nnoitra Jiruga!"

"Yes, yes," Azar muttered. "I know who you claim to be, but I have no substantial proof you are who you say. I find it hard to believe I'm talking to a dead man."

"Then believe you are talking to a living one," the larger robot said. Azar had to look at this one a second time. It seemed the gold of the robots' bodies were changing to match more of the inhabitant's original form. The smaller one had already grown more lithe, more gangly, and was developing what looked like a patch over the left eye. The larger looked aged, bearded and withered. What were these thoughts? Was he really entertaining the possibility that Urahara's jewel had revived two fallen Arrancar? That was impossible, for Hollow or Shinigami. None held the power of resurrection.

"You are not alive," Azar said. "You are inhabiting an artificial body, devoid of brains, breath, or blood. How you are...aware is as mysterious as it is impossible. As soon as Urahara arrives, he can, I can only hope, shed some light on the matter."

"Do not doubt my claims, boy," the large one said. "I am more ancient than you or any of these possessions you hold so dear."

_We shall see,_ Azar thought. At that moment Ciego returned, true to his word. Urahara walked in behind him, led by a chain held by Judecca and Ptolomaea. The bands of gold once restraining him had been removed, since Bordell had weakened him beyond any substantial resistance. In fact he looked quite sick. He stopped once he saw the treasure in the room.

"Original Romanian tapestries, oh, Faberge eggs, amazing, Inuit scrimshaw, incredible..." he commented with an approved nod, fatigue audible in his voice.

"You enjoy my collection?" Azar asked the shop owner.

"It's amazing. I never thought one person could own so much." He turned his head to the dark-skinned Arrancar. "Not enough though, is it? You had to steal my jewel, too."

"Not to split hairs, but Dorian stole it. I merely added it to my collection as a piece of great curiosity. It is actually why I asked you up here. I want to know what it does."

"I told you already, I don't know." Urahara's blunt and abrupt answer caught Azar off guard. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get back to sleep. I was right in the middle of a wonderful dream about whipped cream and a black cat when your boys woke me up."

Ciego nodded and Judecca brought the pommel of his sword down on Urahara's back. He instantly dropped to his knees, his hands still bound. Judecca was about to strike again, but his master held out a hand. The eldest brother returned his sword to the saiya and redoubled his grip on the chain holding Urahara.

"You know more than you let on, Shinigami," Azar goaded.

"Ex-shinigami." Urahara winced.

"Details." Azar stepped away from the robots and began walking around Urahara. "Now, tell me what else you know, or we shall visit my favorite wing of my collection. I have such wonderful surprises for you. Thumb screws from the Spanish Inquisition, the Brazen Bull, the scourge said to be used on Christ, and, if you absolutely refuse to cooperate, the guillotine where Marie Antoinette met her end."

"So, you'd kill your only source of information?"

"Oh, never. We always have contingencies in case you refuse all of our offers. Dorian reported seeing at least six others in your shop: two children, a large man, another younger man and woman, and an imposing, dark-skinned woman." Urahara's eyes shifted to the side and he cursed his reaction. "Oh, the woman holds your interest? Or, perhaps your affections? Dorian did say that when he entered your shop that he met the woman. And he...knew her." The exiled Shinigami turned his head to Azar with a look on his face half of confusion and half of shock.

"What, you didn't know? Dorian is often called Lust and has many amazing abilities, one being that his bones are made of a softer material than normal, and his skin is highly pliable, giving him shape-shifting capabilities. His other is his most potent. He can read minds," Azar grinned a little, "but only when he touches someone, and only their sexual desires. He took your woman to bed as a perfect image of you, giving her everything she wants but, apparently, doesn't get. So, we know she is very precious to you, and if we target her, you will crack."

Urahara's head dropped. He didn't want to get Yoruichi involved. However... He surprised everyone in the room by chuckling to himself. When Azar demanded an explanation, Urahara simply looked up and said, "If you get Yoruichi involved, you guys are in for more hurt than you could ever cause me. You ever hear that saying about a woman scorned? I point to her. But, I'm feeling a little generous. I'll tell you what you need to know, if only to save you guys the trouble you'd get from her. Little good it'll do you, I don't know that much. Half of what I do know is as ridiculous as it sounds, and the other half is guess work."

He then began outlining everything he had observed of the jewel. It gathered scattered spirit energy of a particular frequency and then reassembled it. Usually it wasn't something but someone. He explained that he had successfully reassembled the spirits of Starrk, Halibel, and Ulquiorra. Azar asked if the jewel could reassemble any spirits around it.

"I guess. The way I figure, it has a functional range around it. It reassembled Starrk and Halibel because they died right above Karakura, or the fake one, at least. Their spirits must have lingered and the jewel reacted."

"And Ulquiorra?" Ciego asked.

"No clue. From what I heard, he died right here in Hueco Mundo. I have no idea what his spirit energy, residual or otherwise, would be doing in the mortal world."

Ciego stroked his beard in deep thought. "What would happen if you increased the energy of the jewel."

"No telling. It'd either work on overtime, assembling multiple souls at once, assemble something much larger than a dead Arrancar or human, or it could go Rule 11 on you."

"Rule 11?"

"The 11th rule of life: everything explodes." and he grinned as if he'd accomplished something.

Ciego laughed, that was genuinely funny. When his fit of giggles subsided he looked to his brother. "Is there anything else you needed, Azar?"

"In such a hurry to let your jester be devoured?" Azar smirked.

"Bordell won't kill him, at least he shouldn't if he wants to keep himself fed." Ciego snapped his fingers, the Fraccion taking the gesture as an order. They removed Urahara from the lab, meaning to return him to his cell.

"So what do you make of it?" Ciego asked, his hands folded behind him.

"I am still thinking." Azar held the gem in his hands, rolling it along his fingers. "I believe it a safe assumption that it could be summed up as a focal point for various forms of energy. Perhaps different forms of energy produce different results as to how its transferred through it."

"Fascinating." Ciego stroked his beard. "Why not explore that?"

"I don't have anything that can produce forces of the like on its own."

"Then build something, surely you're able to do that?"

Azar disapproved of Ciego's patronizing tone, but bit his tongue and nodded his head. He would be more than capable of building something once he stole the parts he needed. "Very well, I will see what I can come up with." Once Ciego was gone, Azar ordered his Fraccion to clean up the lab while he made himself busy.

_(III)_

Ikkaku felt his head throbbing when he woke, like his entire face was about to explode. He slowly sat up, cradling his forehead with one hand.

"Sweet shit, what hit me?"

"A worm with googly eyes."

Ikkaku chanced to let one eye slowly open, making out the somewhat skewed form of a peacock. "Welcome back."

"Yumichika," he groaned. "What the hell is going on?"

"Well, you remember when you ate that extra-spicy kimchi before going to bed?" Yumichika reminisced as he filed his nails. "Something like that. What do you remember?"

"Aw man, it felt like it was nothing but nightmares."

"Oh, what about?" he had to ask, but at least he sounded like he was being sensitive about it.

"Endless nut shots and a bunch hot chicks telling me I was bald."

"Oh dear," Yumichika gasped. "That's awful!"

"You're telling me." Ikkaku stretched before turning his body to put his feet on the floor. "So what have I missed?"

"Before or after I was covered in rancid chum?"

Ikkaku's face twisted with disgust. "After, please."

_(–)_

A few seconds passed before she realized that she had been dreaming this whole time, and that the dreams had suddenly stopped. Wrath was awake.

She began rubbing her thumbs against her fingers, like she needed to know she was indeed conscious. While most find it a given, self awareness was frighteningly new to the Arrancar. She began to notice little things, finding them profound. Breathing, a heart rate, thoughts in even the simplest form left her puzzled. When she brought herself to sit up she stared at her own hands, suddenly realizing that they were hers. She touched her face, the bone mask, felt the tattered and uneven ends of her hair, her expression like someone on the verge of shouting eureka.

Wrath's memory was vast but incomplete. Her life before was bright and vivid, a series of brilliant mental pictures, whereas the moments after her death until the present were scattered and unorganized. Dozens of faces and places with no names to go with them. But that wasn't her fault. Aizen's tempering had left her damaged, his inability to properly create her having made the way for one problem after another. Once the Rage Aura had fully developed it was like she didn't even exist, a monster of a Hollow trapped in the restrictive form of an Arrancar without the mental capacity to adjust. Perhaps the further fragmenting of her mask had changed that?

Carefully, testing, Wrath stood up. She flexed her toes against the floor, seemingly fascinated. She spotted the wide observation window just beside the door and couldn't resist walking up to it, her palms on the glass as she hunched over to look through it. The halls were empty and she stepped away from it after only a short moment. There was a second window, one that led to the outside. Imagine her amazement when she saw all the green grass and the living trees. Once it had lost its novelty, which seemed like almost an hour later, Wrath sat back down on the bed, looking still curious as to where this was and why she was here.

Wrath could remember being alive and she couldn't help but let herself dwell on it as she seemed to have nothing better to do at the moment. It was one of the only things she could recall with any clarity. She remembered that her life was only half begun when she died, just shy of twenty when she took her last breath. And she knew it was her father that had ended it.

She had been born mute, which you might imagine, was much to her father's disappointment. The man had been abusive to her and her ever-forgiving mother, but for the most part she was ignored due to her father's shame at her defect. The home would be filled with hatred until her mother found the courage to kick him out. But she would always let him back in, something she never understood. In the end, he had lost his temper one last time, when mother was not there to protect her, and he strangled her to death.

She couldn't remember, but shortly after her death her soul formed into a Hollow and lingered around the family home for years after. She watched after her mother, even after her father had passed away. But, as all Hollows must, she left to feed, returning to see that her father had also become a Hollow, and he had devoured her mother's soul. After devouring it in revenge, the big bear somehow wandered into Hueco Mundo, the hatred of her father's soul festering and growing. The rest is history.

_(IV)_

Ulquiorra found himself wandering restlessly about the house tonight. It was raining again, but thankfully no thunder. The random flashes of brilliant light tended to make him a little uneasy. It was nearly midnight and he could not bring himself to go to bed. Grimmjow sat in the living room, watching TV as he often did, but by the sounds coming from the living room it sounded like had fallen asleep in front of it.

He would lay in his bed for only a few minutes, tossing and turning before sitting up, frustrated. Then he would pace his room, his arms crossed over his chest. Then he would step into the hallway, walking down to Orihime's door as if to knock, then he would turn back, wandering into the kitchen seemingly because it was there. Then he would go back to his room to try again, only to toss and turn like before. It was certainly tiresome. Why was he having so much trouble? Let's think about it...

To get right down to the nitty-gritty, as Ulquiorra was often prone to do with anything, he did not like Grimmjow. He didn't like him being here, never liked him to begin with, and he certainly didn't like how he treated the woman. He had always been a rude, crude, inconsiderate bastard, but for some reason it got under his skin. His behavior filled Ulquiorra with the almost insurmountable urge to punch him in the face.

That was the long and the short of it, but for him that was plenty to be cranky about. He kept it to himself, not wanting to make worse the already tense situation. Onna had enough on her mind with two Arrancar hiding out in her house, never mind that one of them was constantly lecherous and boorish. Perhaps, Ulquiorra thought, if he were blessed with a similar frame as Grimmjow, more or less all muscle, he would be more inclined to put him in his place. However, considering that he had the physique of a fourteen-year-old girl, he wasn't in a huge hurry to temp the horrendous ass kicking he would be sure to get. Maybe if he just shoved a sock down his throat while he slept.

Ulquiorra was making his fourth trip around the house that night when he heard a small noise come from Orihime's room. He paused for a moment, listening, starting back to his own room when there wasn't another. His head was just hitting the pillow when another sound arose, a noise that hurled him into a panic. It sounded like a scream.

"Onna!" Ulquiorra found the door locked, which wasn't common. He fiercely twisted the know and pounded on the door. When it wouldn't give he made his best attempt to kick it in.

The door swung back, striking the wall with a loud _bang_. Ulquiorra slapped the wall in the dark for the light switch. When he found it and the room was illuminated, his panic dissipated into what looked like horrified disgust.

Onna was in no distress, one would guess by the looks of things that she was actually having quite the time. Her hair was missed, her sheets were twisted and hanging off the bed, and her nightgown was bunched around her waist so her breasts were bare with up swept and blushing nipples. Her legs were twined around another body, one that looked hauntingly familiar. It was a pale, dark haired man that was on the verge of liberating Orihime of her panties.

Orihime looked to who stood in the doorway, no longer ecstatic but terrified. "Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra blinked, the man in the woman's bed suddenly changing his appearance. Now he was fair haired, well tanned, and had hole in his back that went straight through to his chest, where his heart had once been.

Orihime screamed, squirming away from the Arrancar. Ulquiorra felt his firm grip on his temper slip, leaping at the intruder with intent to do him harm, anything to get him away from the woman. Dorian quickly shifted to his feet, jumping back towards the window. Ulquiorra was able to grab him by the ankle, yanking him to the floor.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Ulquiorra snarled.

Dorian only smirked, twisting his body just so as he touched his palm to Ulquiorra's chest. There was a loud _CRACK_, Ulquiorra flying across the room and out the door, into the living room.

"Sorry, deary, we'll have to make this date for another day." Dorian blew her a kiss before sliding up the window and disappearing into the stormy darkness.

Orihime was stunned, not entirely sure of exactly what had just happened. Who was that? How could there have been...she had almost had sex with that Arrancar! But wasn't that Ulquiorra? No, he was in the doorway, but...what? Wait, Ulquiorra!

Orihime righted her nightgown and scrambled out of bed. She scurried into the living room, finding Ulquiorra on the floor, naturally clutching his chest and writhing stiffly in pain.

He could feel his heart struggling, stuttering and stumbling in his chest. His lungs didn't want to work right either and he could feel his body burning.

"What's all the hub-bub?" Grimmjow suddenly woke. "Bat boy, are you on fire?" he could smell something burning.

"No," he strained to speak.

"Ulquiorra," Orihime was on the verge of balling her eyes out as she rolled Ulquiorra onto his back. "Are you okay?"

"I...think I will be." he could feel his heart starting to calm down, but his body was still sizzling with heat. He forced his eyes open and looked up at her. "Did he harm you?"

"N-no, no, I'm fine." her face reddened.

"Good," Ulquiorra groaned as he tried to sit up. There was a hole burned in his shirt, leaving a deep red blister on his skin.

"Nice hickey, batman." Grimmjow snickered.

"Would you shut up?" she glared at him.

"What? Seriously, lighten up would you? What the hell happened anyway?"

"An Arrancar impersonating me," Ulquiorra managed to say. "Tried to hurt her."

Grimmjow looked at him like he was crazy, but then his expression changed. "Dorian? That slut."

"You know of him?"

"Yeah, I'd heard of him before. I caught him boinking Mila Rose disguised as me once. Never saw him again after that."

"What would he be doing in my house?" Orihime asked, sounding still rather shaken by the whole thing.

"Looking for a quick fuck." he said flatly. "That's what I'd be looking for if I were him. Never heard of him to be the violent type."

"I do not remember him at all." Ulquiorra shook his head, sweat rolling down his still flushed face.

"You didn't much care. You were too busy kissing Aizen's ass to care about anything."

Ulquiorra, in a rare show of emotion, scowled. "Will he come back?"

"There's no way to be sure." Grimmjow shook his head. "There's no telling how he got in here in the first place."

"Perhaps it would be best that we all stay in one room for the rest of the night?" Ulquiorra suggested, thinking it was a sure way to keep everyone accounted for.

Orihime only nodded.

"Well, that's great. Now, if you'll excuse me, Grimmkitty needs to take a piss." he stood up, stretching, and then disappeared down the hallway.

Orihime took her breath, still unable to completely calm down. She eyed the red mark beneath Ulquiorra's shirt, just able to see it in the glow of the television. "Does it hurt?"

"Moderately, yes. It feels hot."

"Let me get you some ice. It'll help with the swelling." and she quickly went to kitchen, coming back moments later with several cubes wrapped in a dish towel. She pressed it to his chest, listening as he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. "Any better?"

"A little. Thank you." he held it on his own, allowing her to move her hand away. "I am glad you are safe."

Orihime smiled shyly, but her brow wrinkled with a sense of guilt.

"I have a question."

"Y-yes?" she lifted her head slowly, not wanting to look him in the eye.

"Would you have allowed him to..." surprisingly he didn't finish the sentence.

"I thought he was you." she answered quickly. "He even sounded like you."

"Even I was fooled for a brief moment." he nodded. "So...you are saying that you would have allowed me...allowed him to-,"

"I was barely awake," she giggled, interrupting him. "I thought I was dreaming. I was just confused."

"Yes," he sounded almost disappointed. "I suppose you were."

Author's Note: This last bit didn't come very easily for me, don't ask me why. Even the segment on Wrath was a little forced. I guess I go through this with every fanfiction where I want to hurry up and get it done. But I've still got so much of a story to tell. Oh well.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"_Now surely something strange is going to happen." The Inferno: Canto XVI, Verse 115_

Throughout the night Orihime was beset by troubling dreams, flashes and snippets of Las Noches and the palpable terror they induced. Terror that had long since grown into rage and the undying desire to never be afraid again, never to feel so weak and powerless. Sure, it had all been years ago, but that was far too long enough for her to dwell on it, to ponder it. If you think on something too long and too hard, you'd be surprised what it'll do to you, as I'm sure many of you have noticed.

Orihime rubbed her eyes before opening them, groaning quietly with reluctance to wake. She looked up at the ceiling and then shook her head; last night had indeed happened, it wasn't just another creepy dream. She was on the floor in the living room, not in her bed. She put her hands over her face, feeling every muscle in her body tighten. When she opened her eyes again she saw Grimmjow standing over her, stark naked still, and leisurely drinking a glass of milk.

She cringed. "Put that away before I shut it in the oven."

Grimmjow laughed a little. "Y'all are just jealous." and when he was finished, just to humor her, he went to put on some clothes.

With a shrug she rolled over, her back twinging with a mild ache as her hands fisted in the pillows. She was surprised to find Ulquiorra awake, his eyes seeming to look right through her.

"Good morning." she said.

"It doesn't sound good." he noted. "You did not sleep well." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

"No, I guess not." she slowly sat up, joints popping as she stretched.

Ulquiorra sat up as well, his legs crossed beneath the blanket. "What troubles you so much?"

"Nothing really," she scratched her neck. "Just bad dreams."

"I see." he nodded, looking to the floor. "Dreams are curious."

"Yeah." Orihime looked at him curiously. "What do you dream about?"

"Nothing noteworthy. Places I have been, things I've seen...just things." the tone of his voice suggested he wasn't telling the entire story, but she wasn't about to press him, although the tightness in his brow made her think twice about that. In the end she only nodded.

"So what are we going to do?" she asked.

"There must be somewhere that is safe for you." he had yet to look up from the floor. "Staying here would not be very wise."

"But where?"

"I have been thinking. Perhaps it would be best if...you asked Kurosaki for his help."

Orihime was clearly surprised at his suggestion. "What on earth for?" as if there was nothing more absurd.

"He is capable of protecting you far better than I can." Finally he looked a up, a peculiar glint in his eyes. It was as if he never wanted to say what he did, but knew there was no better idea in his head. "And I would not trust Grimmjow as far as I could throw him."

"You guys talking about me?" Grimmjow appeared to plop onto the sofa, which he hogged all night long forcing them to sleep on the floor.

"Yes." Ulquiorra answered flatly. "Neither of us trust you."

"You make it sound like I give a damn." he rolled his eyes, propping his feet on the coffee table.

Orihime shook her head, trying to ignore him. "Why, Ulquiorra?"

"I thought it would be best. I only want you to be safe."

"Maybe you're right, but even then, Ichigo would probably just take me to Soul Society, and it wouldn't be long until they found out about you."

"I understand that worries you. But at least you would be protected."

Orihime bit on her bottom lip, finding his sudden apparent lack of sensibility curious. These weren't things he would normally consider, much less say aloud; these sounded like feelings more than thoughts.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's this about Soul Society?" Grimmjow straightened.

"Never you mind." Orihime snapped, to which Grimmjow stuck out his tongue. "Maybe we should talk about this privately?"

"I believe that would be better." Ulquiorra nodded, and the stepped in Orihime's room, ignoring Grimmjow's snickering.

Ulquiorra stood by the door, his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. Like this Orihime found him almost too familiar, too much like that stone-faced Arrancar.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, sitting on the bed.

"This heart." he slowly confessed. "It is confusing me...hindering my better judgment." his eyes lifted, meeting hers. "I'm troubled."

"I would imagine so, but," she had trouble finding the words. "There's more than that bothering you, isn't there?"

"It's the core of my problem." his brow tightened again. "So to speak."

Orihime considered what he said for a moment before standing up and walking to stand in front of him. "What is it?" she asked gently.

At first Ulquiorra refused to look at her, doing what he could to keep his eyes away. Then he couldn't resist it any longer.

"I believe...that I am experiencing...jealousy." he almost looked ashamed, his eyebrows lifting at the middle just so.

"What, why?" she carefully reach for him, tugging his hands free from his pockets so she could hold them. Perhaps it would help him find the confidence he needed to talk.

"I did not sleep last night. I was so...furious." his fingers curled against hers. "Seeing you...with him...it angered me." he didn't blink as he spoke, telegraphing the authenticity of his statement. "I cannot understand why."

"I guess it's safe to say by now that you care about me," she blushed a little.

"But there is..._more_, I cannot describe it. It seems abnormal and...inappropriate." he sounded angry at himself, like spouting such emotional nonsense was beneath him. "There is no explanation."

Orihime felt she was beginning to understand. By the sounds of it he was indeed jealous, but also uneasy of the fact and of the other things he was forced to realize he was feeling. Part of her thought it was silly, considering there was no competition for her affection between him and anyone else, certainly not the shape-shifting Arrancar that appeared last night. Perhaps he felt he had special privileges in regards to her since they had kissed in the kitchen, his feelings having grown and matured over the short time between then and now. Still, it was a short time, and the concept of emotions was still in its infancy for Ulquiorra. No wonder it disturbed, even angered him to some degree.

"I do not wish to see you in danger again. From anyone or anything." his expression had softened, but hadn't lost any of its intensity, his grip tightening again.

"There's nothing wrong with that." she shook her head. "In fact it's nice to know you're looking out for me. Somehow I knew."

He looked surprised. At what, there was no telling.

"You're not abnormal," she laughed a little. "If anything, we know its working." she pulled one hand free and put it to his chest, over the scorched hole in his shirt. Then her hand drifted upward, cupping one cheek.

_Woman...this heart...it twists and it burns...and all for you._

His eyes widened, his lips slightly trembled, and his heart began to race against the restrictions of his chest. Her touch set his blood on fire; considering he knew blood could not be ignited one could only imagine his surprise. His mind became somewhat frantic in the throws of his heart, suddenly unable to ignore the urge to look at her when he was only moments before so against it. His jealousy had suddenly died away and now he was filled with something else. Was it desire for this frail human woman that had steadily become so vital to his existence?

"Onna," he breathed, his head bending down. "What is wrong with me?" he almost begged for an answer.

"Nothing," she shook her head, putting her other hand to his other cheek.

A shiver went down his back and then back up again. His heart lurched, starting to pound and forcing him to take more frequent breaths. "It is almost painful."

"Because you're keeping it bottled up inside. You've got to let it out."

"How?"

"Let me show you."

Ulquiorra didn't wait, as soon as she began to lift her chin he captured her lips with his, his arms circling tightly about her waist and shoulders. He growled into the kiss, nipping at her bottom lip. His fervor sprang out of thin air as he practically devoured her. And she allowed him.

With his grip still secure, he spun them around pressing her back against the door. A delighted squeak escaped her, making her giggle a little. Both of his hands started moving over her somewhat clumsily, like he had no idea what he was doing and only going on pure instinct. His mouth started towards her neck, leaving little red marks behind his hard kisses.

Ulquiorra began to feel that same inhibition he had before, when he and the woman were on the couch before Yoruichi came. His body wanted this contact, this interaction with her so desperately, and yet his mind was telling him to back away. But he just couldn't. Both of his hands gripped the supple swell of her buttocks and lifted her against the door, forcing her thighs apart as he pressed between them. When her knees bent over his hips he found she would not fall if he let go. He eased her nightgown upward, just enough so he could slip his hands beneath it. Her head fell back against the door, her eyes closed and her mouth open in a quiet gasp.

"Onna," he panted, his tongue at her throat.

"Don't stop," she begged breathlessly. "Please,"

He growled again, louder, more desperate. His fingers pointed into the soft flesh of her waist when her hands curled about his hair, tugging at his scalp. He felt sparks under his skin, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristling. The sensation of their bodies pressed together this way was like a heart attack, gut wrenching and thrillingly fatal. Her nails scratched him and he thought his knees would fail.

"We must stop," he fought to breathe as he spoke.

"What's the matter?" she looked almost horrified as he set her down. "Ulquiorra, what is it?"

He shook his head, his hands up. "I cannot keep my mind when I am with you this way."

"But,"

"No. This will not continue until I better understand it...until I can control myself." again he refused to look at her, pushing her aside so he could leave the room. He went quietly down the hall and shut himself up in his room.

Grimmjow poked his head around the corner, something in his mouth that looked like the remnants of chicken leg. "What's wrong with him?"

Orihime only frowned, her eyes dim with sadness.

Ulquiorra flopped onto the bed with a heavy shrug, covering his face with his hands. He most certainly didn't like how he was feeling right now, especially the tightness all over his body that seemed to centralize in his loins. Well, not entirely. Yes, it felt good, the woman's body was soft and warm, and all he wanted to do was touch her everywhere; what he didn't like was how desperately he wanted to. It robbed him of his rationality, his control, and that's what he hated. He didn't hate Onna, far from it, he hated being pulled about by the throat by his heart. This damnable organ pounding about in his chest.

_So this is hatred. Or perhaps I am just frustrated? Yes. I am just...unaccustomed to these urges, these...desires._

He didn't want to accept that a part of him very much enjoyed the rush he experienced. Being with Orihime...it did something to him, something he couldn't fully explain. At first he found it to be something rather positive, but his feelings became mixed, now considering it adverse to his overall stability. Thinking about it only made him feel worse, his stomach now in knots.

Perhaps she had been right. Maybe he needed to stop keeping his feelings so secret. But how could he possibly tell her? He had noticed over the short time he had been living with Orihime how much she resented, if not completely hated Arrancar. Did she feel that way about him, only treating him well out of concern for his own feelings? No, that didn't seem like her, she was honest to a fault. Still, perhaps he could work that to his advantage. But now he had to, for the first time since as far back as he could remember, find courage enough to talk to her.

_(II)_

Unohana carefully pried apart the two halves of the cast, setting them aside with a happy smile. "There you are, Komamura-taichou. Good as new."

Komamura flexed his fingers and gently turned his wrist, finding no tenderness or pain. He grinned with a nod. "Thank you very much. Now I can get back to work."

"Be sure to take it easy though, don't use it too much." she cautioned.

"I make no promises, but I will do my best."

"I certainly hope so." she laughed. "You were so miserable, I'd hate for you to go through that again."

"Perhaps you could come by later this evening and check on me?" he looked at her hopefully, his ears tilted back.

"I'm afraid I can't tonight." she sighed regretfully, but still smiling. "I'm on duty until the weekend."

"Ah yes," Komamura nodded. "Then maybe I will visit you later instead."

"I would like that very much." she gathered up the remnants of his cast to throw them away in the nearest waste bin.

"I have not seen much of you this past week. I can only assume you are quite busy."

"Yes, I suppose so. But I enjoy my work so it isn't so bad."

"I would imagine things a little strange with all the Arrancar around." Komamura mentioned, voicing his thoughts on why she had been so tangled up in her duties.

"Much to my surprise," Unohana pulled up a chair next to him and began writing in a file folder. "They've been almost no trouble."

"Almost?"

"The worst is how uneasy my officers are about them, other than I tend to forget they're even here."

"I find that hard to believe; no trouble at all?" when she shook her head his eyes widened a little, his eyebrows lifting. "I would expect the little one to be easy, but..."

"He's found himself a playmate," she smirked as she closed the file. "Kenpachi has grown tired of having to retrieve Yachiru from here every day."

"How cute. At least he is staying out of trouble."

"I didn't think you cared so much." she gave him a suspicious look.

"Hmph," he crossed his arms, his ears folding back. "What about the one Kurotsuchi-taichou is still grumbling about?"

"I'm actually somewhat concerned." she confessed with a furrowed brow. "All of the reports I've received from those assigned to watch her are uneventful, too much for my liking. She doesn't respond to anything."

"Odd. Perhaps Kenpachi ruined it."

"I'm beginning to think so as well."

"Has the Arrancar prince said anything about it? He's seemed like the authority on the subject."

"He had no answers, none of them did. At this point we may just have to wait." she shook her head and sighed. "I'm sorry, Sajin, but I have to go."

"No need to apologize." he stood up with a slight grunt, thanking her again before walking out of the room. Unohana then went to her office, filing the paperwork as usual and getting started on the new duty roster for the following week. Everyone was on deck for double duty since Seireitei had been attacked by the giant oni, never mind all the Arrancar within the walls. It was all a cautionary measure, at least that's what it was referred to as at the meeting. To be quite honest she didn't feel any imminent threat from the Arrancar, although she would admit she didn't fully trust them. Still, it appeared there was more and more evidence to favor her theory; many of the Arrancar had been Aizen's victims, not his loyal servants. As the days passed, ignoring the fact that Arrancar are far closer to human than anyone guessed, was harder to ignore.

The phone on her desk rang and she reached for it without looking away from her work.

"Fourth Squad, Unohana speaking...yes...has something happened? Then...all right, I'll be right there." and she dropped it back onto the receiver. She pushed the papers aside and pulled open the bottom drawer of her desk, the largest one where she kept her travel bag of tools should she ever need to make an appointment away from Fourth Squad. The call had come from Thirteenth Squad, a request for her to come and give their captain a quick once over. He had been bedridden for some time recently, so naturally she was quite concerned. She didn't rush, but she didn't waste much time in her pace to reach Thirteenth Squad's barracks.

"What's the problem?" she asked the first Shinigami she saw.

"I wouldn't say it's a problem, ma'am." he replied with a grin.

Unohana wasn't sure how she should feel about the answer, still having no idea what to expect. She followed the officer back, deep into the barracks, to the captain's cottage. Imagine her surprise to find Kurotsuchi inside as well.

"Mayuri-san, what brings you here?"

"Nothing much." he had a grin on his face that seemed sneaky, like he was overly proud at himself. This only served to feed her suspicion. It was a rare event when Kurotsuchi was involved in something pleasant.

When she entered Ukitake's room, she was very much surprised to see him sitting up and smiling in his bed. There was even a lush color to his face which she had never seen before, not since meeting him some few centuries ago.

"Ah, Unohana," he greeted happily. "So glad to see you!"

"How are you feeling today, Jushiro?" she smiled before setting her satchel on his bedside table.

"Fabulous, absolutely wonderful!" any happier and one would think something was wrong with him.

"With that being the case, not that I don't mind the visit, why was I called?" she gave him a curious expression.

"Just a routine check-up, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all." she shook her head. Something about this couldn't be right. He'd been practically lame with his illness for the past two weeks, and now he's suddenly spry an vigorous with good health? She wasn't entirely convinced.

Unohana took his blood pressure, heart rate, and, of course, she listened to his lungs as was typical procedure. She just couldn't believe it. Ukitake took deep, even breaths and long, confident exhales. She knew what his breathing sounded like, shallow and wheezing with a hint of gargling. Now he was breathing like a newborn baby.

"It's amazing."

"How is it?" he asked as if he already knew what she was going to say.

"I must say," she put her tools away. "As odd as it seems, you appear to be in perfect health."

"Wonderful. Mayuri-san, your concoction worked!"

How did she know? Unohana turned to see the black-faced captain enter the room, looking smugger than ever.

"I'm not one for miracles, so would anyone care to explain?" although she knew good and well Kurotsuchi would be more than happy to brag about his supposed genius.

"Nothing would please me more," Kurotsuchi appeared to look down his nose at her. "But I have to get back, so let's talk it over on the way."

"If you insist." she looked back to Ukitake as she grabbed her bag. "I would like for you to come by later so I could have a closer look at you."

Ukitake agreed, saying "goodbye" just as she walked out the door.

"How did you do it?" she asked immediately.

"Jealous? Well, to be honest I had no idea it would work."

Unohana felt her brow tighten. "You used him? You could have killed him."

"He was dying anyway, what did he have to lose?" Kurotsuchi's tone carried his usual carelessness. "Anyway he was suffering; aren't you all about easing the pain of others?"

"Be that as it may, what I'm not about is turning people into guinea pigs. You had no right."

"He gave me his permission," he argued.

"That's beside the point. You should have spoken to me first."

"I don't answer to you," he grimaced.

"But I am his primary physician, it's my business to know about such things. I have half a mind to report you."

"Bah, a lot of good it would do you. I just saved his life, much to your chagrin I'm sure." there was that smug smile again. "Even Yamamoto would overlook the breach in protocol with his gratitude for sparing one of his beloved students from a slow and painful death."

"Which I'm sure you did simply out of the goodness of your heart?" her tone made it clear that was most certainly not his biggest fan.

Kurotsuchi laughed. "Why do I do anything? I was curious to see if it would work."

"And what, pray tell, is 'it'?"

"I'd offer to show you, but I know you don't much care for my laboratory. Still, in any case, it was just something I threw together from those samples I took from the Arrancar. Oh don't make that face at me, Unohana," he scowled. "After what you just witnessed, I would imagine you to be at least a little more receptive to the idea. Just think, something like that could make your job so much easier."

Yes, perhaps he was right. If Ukitake was indeed cured of his illness, the potential for Kurotsuchi's creation was nearly limitless. Still, Unohana couldn't find it in herself to overlook how he happened to acquire his materials. She just couldn't stand behind his methods.

"You're still a bastard."

Kurotsuchi put his hands to his belly and laughed loudly. "I finally do something beneficial to everyone and you still can't stand me! What a character!"

Unohana stopped, allowing him to continue on his way without her. Goodness how she detested that man.

She would feel ten times better once she was back in her office, back to her paperwork that was now nearly finished. Just a few more time slots to fill and she would be done, after which she would take a short break for tea, something to calm her nerves. Of course she was happy for Ukitake, but...well, you know. In the end she dismissed the whole event with a sigh.

With the schedule filled she left her office to place it on the notice board in the main hall of the barracks where everyone would be checking for it.

"Unohana-taichou,"

She bit her lip against a groan and put on her usual smile. "Isane, what is it?"

The vice-captain looked like she had hurried there from wherever she was, a little flushed in the face and somewhat rushed. "Captain, I hate to bother you, but you need to come back with me to the Quarantine Ward."

"Is something wrong?"

"You have to see this,"

"What is it?" Unohana was beginning to feel agitated with all the strange goings on and all the surprises, unaware of just how much more she would be able to stand before the day was out.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Please, captain,"

Unohana ignored her fatigue to follow Isane, just as capable doing so without her vice-captain's tugging and pulling. All the way she was praying that the Arrancar hadn't somehow escaped, leaving no trace, and was now wreaking havoc across Seireitei. Thankfully that wasn't the case. That would have just ruined her entire day.

Neliel and Ranza, alongside a small host of Shinigami were crowded around the large observation window. Unohana managed through the throng, ordering everyone back to their respective duties so she could have a look for herself.

"Glad you could join us, Mama-san." Ranza said. "Weird, huh?"

Unohana's brow lifted in surprise and for a brief moment she wasn't sure if she should be terrified or curious. Eventually curiosity won out. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since before noon." Ranza crossed his arms. "I noticed the squirt wasn't around and Eyepatch was looking for his shoulder buddy, too, so I put two and two together,"

"I see. How fascinating. Just like that?"

"I guess she likes kids."

"How does that explain Hanataro being in there?" Nel wondered aloud.

"He's a kid too as far as she can tell. He's small, seems to be easily frightened; that's my guess anyway."

Largo, Yachiru, and-yes-Hanataro, were in the room with Wrath, sitting on the floor. Actually Largo, who appeared to be Wrath's favorite, was sitting on the larger Arrancar's shoulders. By the looks of it Yachiru had brought a stack of blank paper and a handful of bright colored markers, and everyone was drawing or scribbling something. However, Hanataro was moving his hand with intent and purpose, quickly writing "Help me!" and holding it up with the writing facing the window. This was until Yachiru shoved another sheet of paper into his lap so he could continue.

"He's been doing that for a while, but no one had the courage to go in." Nel confessed.

"Sometimes cowardice is confused with wisdom." Unohana smiled. "And a problem with a solution," and she moved to open the door.

"Careful, Mama-san." Ranza warned. "Don't know if she'll like you too much."

"Maybe I should send for Hitsugaya-taichou?" Nel suggested sounding quite concerned.

"Give her a minute."

Unohana slowly pushed the door open, taking cautious small steps inside. She didn't shut the door behind her.

"Mama-taichou, come draw with us!" Yachiru demanded with her usual cheer and childish delight.

The two Arrancar looked up at the captain, making the Shinigami pause. Wrath helped Largo down before she stood up. Straight and tall she stepped up to Unohana, who had to tilt her head up so they might see eye to eye. The Arrancar was only slightly taller than Komamura, but certainly much taller than herself. Suddenly there was a veil of tension hovering about the room. Hanataro was chewing on his nails and sweating like a sinner in church. Largo refused to blink as he watched, almost expecting something to happen.

"I hope they haven't been bothering you." Unohana said, thinking gentle communication was the best defense against an incident.

"She doesn't really talk, Nana." Largo said. "But she knows what you're saying."

"Oh good." so she tried a simple question. "Are you feeling well?"

Wrath tilted her head to side in an inquisitive way, and then she straightened before nodding slowly.

"Might I sit down with you?"

Wrath could sense this Shinigami's power, how it was rather immense, but didn't find her threatening. Still her instincts told her to be cautious as she stepped back, watching the captain kneel beside the pink-haired girl before sitting down again. Wrath gathered Largo into her lap, glancing at Unohana from time to time in an almost suspicious manner.

Unohana quietly watched them for several minutes, just observing, curious to see what might happen next. Her heart went out to Hanataro, who she gave an encouraging smile to regardless of how it couldn't stop him from shaking.

Outside the room, Ranza and Nel found themselves dumbstruck.

"It's like..." Nel started.

"Like she's a completely different creature?" Ranza finished. "Like there's actually someone in there? I know. Crazy. I guess Jingles actually might have done the poor thing some good."

"I don't know," Nel shook her head. "You sense it too, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Sure, there's still the chance she'll go _boom_, but now it feels a little more controlled." Ranza scratched his head. "I'd imagine we're pretty safe as long as we keep her away from Dr. Frankenschtup away from her."

"What about us, Ranza? Do you think she remembers us?"

"I sure as hell hope not." Ranza turned and started back down the hall, feeling now would be a good time to leave. "God help us if she does."

Nel followed beside him. "She seems to have calmed down though."

"Maybe, but there's still a temper in there, I can feel it. Nel,"

"Yes?"

Ranza swallowed. "You wanna stay the night with me again tonight? Maybe I could try and get dinner too."

Nel suddenly forgot about the current goings on and smiled with a hint of blush hiding in the stigmata. "I guess I could, as long as I'm not busy."

"What, you're schedule full? If it is, that's okay, I understand." he shoved his hands in his pockets, sounding disappointed.

"No, I've got the next two day's off. I guess I could squeeze you in." she smirked at him.

_Do I even HAVE to comment on that? Really?_ The parasite whispered into Ranza's head. _I could, you know, just because I'm an asshole and I'm good with dirty jokes._

_"Shut it, grub_._"_

_(III)_

"So what is it you've made, Azar?" Ciego scrutinized the machine sitting on the table. It almost took up the entire space, and it looked very complex and complicated for something its size.

"It's just a prototype. Give me a few weeks and I could make it full size." Azar stood beside his brother, waiting for him to get out of the way so he could continue working.

"Well what does it do?"

"I was just about to test it when you barged in." he grumbled.

"Then I'd say I arrived just in time." Ciego smirked before taking a step back.

Azar scowled as he moved around Ciego, finding the gem placing it in the machine. It sat between a pair of metal prongs where, one could only guess, some form of energy would pass between, and behind some sort of magnifying lens. It was clear that Azar had a paramount idea going on this machine, but what it was meant to do, not even he was very sure. Even the golden automatons lumbered out of their lonely corners to see what was going on.

Azar looked over the device once more, tightening a bolt before finally flipping the power switch.

After several moments of nothing, "Forget to plug it in, Azar?" Ciego chuckled.

"I have designed it to where the jewel is its power source, it just takes a few moments." Azar crossed his arms, still scowling.

A low humming sound filled the room a few seconds later. It steadily grew louder and louder, leveling off as bright blue sparks began arcing from the metal prongs and through the gem. The entire machine began glowing, a great aura of heat suddenly coming off of it. Azar was almost concerned it might explode.

_"It's not going to work."_ he thought to himself. _"I need to rethink this whole thing. I don't have the right materials..."_

There was a bright flash and, thankfully, no boom. Once everyone was able to see again they were able to take in exactly what had just happened. By the looks of it, the machine had produced some sort of opening, a rip much like a garganta. But, unlike a garganta, it didn't open to the space between worlds, but directly into one of the other realms of existence. But it was a tiny opening, and it showed no signs of getting any wider.

"Isn't this neat?" Ciego lifted his brows at the results. He chanced to put his hands through the tear, finding that the anomaly did indeed function just like a garganta as his limb passed through. For several seconds he left it inside until finally pulling it back. Seconds after, the rift closed as Azar had turned off the machine for fear of it overheating.

Ciego had pulled a blade of grass from the other world, whichever one he'd blindly reached into. He twirled it between his fingers, still grinning like a smug fool. Then he said, "Make it bigger and we'll see what it does." before leaving the lab.

"He's a right bastard, isn't he?" wondered the older looking robot.

"Always has been." Azar shook his head, immediately starting back on improving the machine, to make it larger and more efficient. He did all of his work that evening with a fierce look on his face, the look of a man who wanted to shove a sharp, ill-shaped object into a particular someone's rectum.

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long, just had a little blockage and a lot of other things going on. Some of this I forced a little, which you could probably tell, but sometimes it just has to be done. The next chapter or two is going to probably be a considerable amount of filler, but I'll try to keep you entertained.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"_I am ready for whatever Fortune wants...so let Fortune turn her wheel, spinning it as she pleases."_

_The Inferno: Canto XV, verses 93, 95-96_

It had been a total of five weeks since Sereitei was nearly demolished by a giant Arrancar. Five weeks since Urahara had vanished and a small herd of Arrancar had settled into Soul Society. But that was only a small fraction of what was really going on.

Rukia was happy to see Ichigo. She ran to him with a glee that might have suggested that he had been away for months. Sure, it had been a few weeks longer than he had initial said he'd be gone, but he was still a little surprised at her. She was normally quite reserved as far as public displays of affection go. Once she was finished hugging him about the neck he gently set her back down, looking at her curiously.

"You miss me that much, huh?" he asked.

Rukia tried to hide her blush as she cleared her throat. "Of course I did. Would you expect I didn't?"

"Not exactly, no." he scratched the back of his head, feeling the distinct sensation of his own foot in his mouth.

"I know we only saw each other last night-,"

"What? I wasn't here last night." Ichigo shook his head.

"Yes you were, we spent the whole night together. You don't remember?"

"But I wasn't." he contended. "I haven't left the house since I went back, and I've been in bed for the last ten days from a popped stitch."

"But it had to be. Who else could it," she paused, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

"Rukia, what's the matter?" he saw how her face lost all its color and it concerned him. "What's going on?"

"I...I don't know." she didn't have a clue, but she had a feeling it was something awful. By the look on Ichigo's face, he very well could've been feeling the same way. Even more so when Rukia took him by the wrist so he would follow as she went in search of Nel. His guess was that maybe she would be able to ease Rukia's apparent concern.

_(–)_

"We're doing the best we can with what we have."

"I know, I know." Yoruichi rubbed at her neck. "It's just getting tougher every day. No clues,"

Soifon nodded as she walked beside the taller woman.

"What about that Arrancar Prince? He saying anything?"

"He claims not to know who took Urahara, neither do the other Arrancar. No one saw him for but a split second."

"That's what I heard. I guess that's what is making this so frustrating."

Soifon felt her heart go out to Yoruichi, seeing the worry and the weariness in her former mentor's face. It was a humbling sight, forcing the Shinigami to cast away her jaded hero worship and see Yoruichi for what she really was: just another human being.

"You think he's still alive..." Soifon mentioned in passing.

"That's just it, I don't know. Since he disappeared it's like his reiatsu just..._poof_. If he...I would never know."

Soifon never could understand Yoruichi's somewhat umbilical attachment to Urahara, although she had to admire her devotion to him.

"Yamamoto-sotaichou has requested that you take the former Espada back with you. He noticed how their powers had been sealed and decided they weren't a threat."

"Yeah, I guess I could. God only knows what I'll do with them, but I'll do it."

Soifon nodded. "Are there any others?"

"Pardon?"

"Are there more? Did Urahara's gem bring back any others?"

Yoruichi eventually shook her head. "Damned if I know. It was his pet project, I didn't find out about it until just before it was stolen."

Soifon nodded again, taking Yoruichi's answer as genuine, sensing no deceit. "Very well. I would send for the Arrancar to meet you at the gate."

"That's fine."

Soifon paused, watching for a moment as she began to walk away. "Yoruichi-sama,"

"Hmm?" she turned.

"If...if you ever need someone to talk to..."

Yoruichi grinned. "Thanks. I will." and then she continued on with a half-hearted wave goodbye over her shoulder.

As promised, Halibel and Starrk were waiting at the gate for her, walking alongside her as the gate was pulled open and the stepped out of Seireitei.

"What now?" Starrk asked, his hands in his pockets as he walked.

"I don't know. Until we can figure out who took him...nothing to do but wait."

"We want to help any way we can." Halibel said. "We're well versed in waiting, but I can't say we would be worth much if this turns into a fight."

"Yeah, I know. I suppose I could break the seals...it'll take time...probably be painful."

"It's the least we could do, I guess." Starrk added. "What ever it takes."

Yoruichi found herself feeling a bit more hopeful, knowing she had the added support.

_(–)_

Hanataro wouldn't have thought himself able to survive the last five weeks. He was convinced the strain on his nerves would stop him dead, but, much to his great surprise, he lived.

After much time and effort on Captain Unohana's part, Yamamoto agreed that Wrath could be allowed outside of the Quarantine Ward. Of course this was on a trial, therefore very limited, basis and under strict supervision by no less than two others. In this case, Unohana decided to give that responsibility, at least for the time being, to Hanataro and Largo, seeing as Wrath seemed best tempered around them. Her first choice would have been Yachiru, but Unohana felt the need to think that over a little bit more.

As much as he liked the thought of something new, he was twice as terrified. His feelings had not changed since Yachiru fuku-taichou shoved him into that room with the Arrancar, demanding he join in their "fun". He had to wash his uniform once he returned to the barracks they were so wet with sweat. His condition certainly didn't improve upon hearing his new orders.

"Just keep her out of trouble." Unohana had said. "Show her around Seireitei, let her get used to being around people."

Simple, right? Wrong! Even with Largo around he felt this to be a near impossible task. Why him? He would admit it, he was a down right sissy; this was not a job for him! When he tried to protest, Unohana stopped him, saying; "It will be good for you."

The phrase eventually became his mantra to summon the seemingly endless amount courage he needed to get through just the first day. It wasn't that things went absolutely ape-shit crazy, far from, it was the simple fact that poor Hanataro was just damn terrified. You try being five-foot-nothing, have a physique closer to that of a ten-year-old girl, and then stand up to an Arrancar whose head almost touched the ceiling and was built like a brick shit house without shaking right down to your ankle bones. Go ahead, try it.

Still, in the end, Hanataro did as he was ordered, and he did so feigning eagerness to serve.

The first day was one of the hardest. However, as the weeks went on, he realized it was more so the easiest. He started out somewhat early, just after breakfast, heading for the Quarantine Ward with uneven steps and a change of clothes folded in his arms. If the Arrancar was going to be outside, she would need to be properly dressed.

What courage he had mustered fizzled into a tiny, fading spark when the guards on duty opened the door and he stepped inside. He stopped dead in his tracks when Wrath's amber eyes fixed on him. He felt himself so fortunate that he was of such strong intestinal fortitude in moments like this, or else he would have, most assuredly, ruined his uniform.

"Hey, scaredy-cat." Largo greeted from his seat on the bed.

"G-good morning." Hanataro gave a quick, jerking bow.

Wrath stood up and started towards the small Shinigami. Hanataro felt his stomach threatening to fall right out through his belly button. When she came too close he dropped his head and held out his arms. "Here!"

Largo came over and saw Wrath's curiosity as she held the garments in her clawed hand.

"You wear it." he said simply, unable to give any further details when Wrath looked at him. "You'll have to show her."

"M-me? No, no, no, it's simple."

"Not for us." Largo argued.

Hanataro shook his head. "V-very well-uh...yes."

Shaking the entire time, somehow he managed to help Wrath put on the hakama, of course having to tie it for her as she had no idea how. After a few moments he could tell there was something she didn't like about it.

"It's covering her feet." Largo said. "She doesn't like that."

Wrath might have been simple, but she was far from stupid. She proceeded to sit back on the bed and rip the sleeves off of the kimono she was still wearing. After some doing she was able to wrap the white fabric around her ankles, cinching the wide legs of the hakama closed. When she stood back up she appeared pleased, now able to see her feet and walk without the unspoken fear of tripping.

"Great," Hanataro found a small iota of relief. "So...let's go." he froze as he turned for the door when Wrath's giant hand curled over his shoulder.

"Where are we going?" Largo asked for her.

"C-Captain Unohana asked me to escort her around Soul Society."

After a moment Wrath let him go as if giving him permission to continue. He felt his muscles loose and he was able to walk again.

He felt a small fraction of the weight on his shoulder slide off once they were outside. He paused a moment just outside the front of the barracks, seeing as Wrath had stopped as well to simply look around.

Wrath knew she had been here before, outside in the city, but it was a fuzzy memory. She didn't remember the sound of people moving, hundreds of Shinigami going from place to place. There were men and women everywhere, all of them in uniform and with a sword at their side. She felt her pulse quicken at the sight of them. Under normal circumstances she would've gone after the Shinigami, flown into a rage without a second thought. But since her mask was broken, circumstances were anything but normal. Now she found them fascinating, almost unable to believe there were so many and that they all looked different. It was like a completely different world. Who knew?

Without much protest she followed the small Shinigami about Seireitei, taking in what was to be seen, remembering faces and smells and the feelings of different reiatsu. She was not put off by how people stared at her. She was much bigger than most of them, certainly much taller; some of them discreetly shied away, diverting down the next street to avoid her and her guide.

"It looks so different from up here." Largo said in wonder as he sat upon Wrath's shoulders.

That gave her an idea.

With a squeal Hanataro felt himself lifted upward, off of the ground to come to a stop atop one of the many roofs.

"Ah! No! We must get back down!" Hanataro cried, his hands on his head in his terror. "We're going to get in trouble!"

Largo bent down. "She says you need to stop whining."

"B-b-b-but-," before he could finish Wrath had already crouched down, forcing him to hold her about the neck as she ran on all fours, jumping from roof to roof. Hanataro couldn't stop screaming, forcing many of the Shinigami below to turn their heads as he passed over them. It was actually quite funny. All the while it appeared that the two Arrancar were enjoying themselves.

When Wrath finally stopped Hanataro let go, hitting the hard tiles of the roof butt first and rigid as roadkill.

"You scream like a girl." Largo said with a laugh in his voice. "So where are we now?"

"Um," Hanataro slowly stood up, his whole body shaking. "Well," he peered over the edge of the roof. "This is Eleventh Squad...let's just move on, how about that?"

"Why?"

"This isn't exactly my favorite place to be." he laughed sheepishly.

Wrath stepped to look over to the streets below. She could understand his reservations. Many of the Shinigami here were quite large, gigantic compared to him. Nature herself tended to dictate that her smaller creatures be fearful of the bigger ones. She thought it over a little more before nodding her head. She grabbed Hanataro by the collar and dragged him on his backside across the roof, jumping down with him into the alley. He covered his mouth against another small scream of terror. Although he was more than glad to be back on the ground, he didn't much care for how Wrath was encouraging him out into the main thoroughfare. He looked at the Arrancar as if to ask whether or not she was kidding.

Largo looked at Wrath and then to Hanataro after she made several gestures. "She says you don't have to be scared."

_Says her._

Still, he went ahead, remembering his mantra "it'll be good for me".

Much to his surprise he was left alone. Many of the Soul Reapers that were notorious for harassing him stayed away, even after he made eye-contact with them. Most of them simply stared. It actually made him feel quite good, somewhat confident, but then he realized it was only because he wasn't alone. Still, deep down he took it as a tiny victory.

Most of the days Hanataro spent with the Arrancar would be like this, only Wrath would grow increasingly bold as the weeks grew on. So much so that one day she even chanced sneaking onto Kuchiki-taichou's property, within the compound walls, and molesting the fish in his koi pond. Thank God he never found out, or Hanataro would have surely breathed his last.

It was near impossible for him to sit with his own squad during meals. The Arrancar would find a way to drag him away to sit with them and, on occasion, Yachiru who would sneak into Fourth squad for such visits. And never before in all his years in Soul Society (which weren't all that many but still quite a few) had he seen anyone eat as much as Wrath. Even on wasabi soup day she would put it away like there was no bottom in her stomach. The first time she tried it she drank the entire bowls worth before making several gestures to Largo, who in turn looked at him.

"She says it tastes like hellfire and death...and she wants more."

Other Shinigami actually started watching, even starting small betting pools. Not even Kenpachi could manage to put away some of the food the Arrancar did.

The arrangement seemed to be going smoothly for everyone, to the point where Hanataro began to wonder why he was afraid of her in the first place. He was reminded nearly three weeks after this assignment began. Hanataro was on his way out of Fourth Squad with the Arrancar in tow. Ukitake-taichou seemed to appear out of nowhere, his arms wide open as his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Hantaro, so good to see you!" he greeted enthusiastically. "I heard about your new assignment, good for you!" and he went to embrace Hantaro, much to Wrath's disapproval. The Arrancar put herself between the two of them in a defensive gesture, perhaps feeling that Ukitake was trying to do him harm.

"Oh, sorry," Ukitake took a small step back, still seeming pretty happy. "You must be Wrath. I've heard quite a bit about you."

The Arrancar only glared down at him, not sure what to make of him other than the fact that she didn't quite like him for his seemingly bold behavior.

"I suppose I should be thanking you. I'd probably be dead without your help."

If only he understood the details of his cure.

When Ukitake reached out his hand and took hold of Wrath's in order to show his appreciation, she sharply recoiled with a loud, piercing hiss and her fangs bared.

"Ukitake-taichou, please," Hanataro quickly stepped in, having noticed Unohana coming down the hall. "She's not very...people friendly."

"Oh, I had no idea! I'm so sorry. Then, thank you," and he forced himself to be satisfied with a bow. And then he was on his way, much to Hanataro's relief. He wasn't sure if he would be able to handle things if Ukitake pressed the issue. Still, crisis averted. Wrath took a while to calm down, her sudden hostility making the air smell like pepper and ashes. On the fly he thought to show her the flower gardens behind the barracks. Thankfully that did the trick.

And not much changed over the following weeks, so full of narrow escapes and near misses.

_(–)_

Rukia was terrified, shaking, her stomach in knots. She couldn't even stand for Ichigo to touch her, her senses were that hard wired. Both of them were sitting in Ranza's room, having found Nel there in their search for her.

"So," Ranza mulled it over in his head. "You're saying he was here, doing...things, and then _you_ say," he looked to Ichigo, "you _weren't_ here, you've been at home. Something obviously doesn't add up."

"Clearly," Nel agreed. "Sounds like some sort of shape shifter."

"Like the one Halibel talked about that appeared at Urahara's shop. You think there's a connection?"

"I'm willing to guess at it, but that doesn't bring us any closer. We still don't know who the shape shifter really is."

"Wait a minute," Ichigo seemed to be having a hard time processing all of this. "Just what are you saying?"

"English not plain enough for you?" Ranza cocked up an eyebrow. "I'm saying we've got a pervert running around changing faces like we change socks, and your girlfriend here was one of his...well, you know."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Ranza crossed his arms.

"Rukia, we're already looking out for this guy," Nel tried to reassure her.

"I know," she put a hand to her forehead. "I'm just really confused."

"I can imagine. It sounds like you two could use some time alone." Ranza suggested. "Come on, Nel, let's go for a walk."

Once the Arrancar were gone, Rukia broke down and began to cry. "I can't believe this." she sobbed.

Ichigo was having a difficult time with this. Part of him was angry, furious, because it felt betrayed knowing the Rukia had been to bed with another man. Then, on the other hand, part of him was worried and scared, almost ashamed that he hadn't been there to protect her from whatever it was that had deceived her. In any case, he found no guilt in her. How could she have known any better? From what she had said, this person had looked like, sounded like, even smelled like he did. He even knew very intimate secrets that no one else possibly could.

"I'm so sorry, Ichigo." Rukia tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, still too ashamed to look at him.

Ichigo bit his lip, steeling himself. He slid onto his knees in front of her, suddenly feeling the need to be humble.

"Rukia," he started, his mouth suddenly drying out. "Look. How about I take you home with me, just for a day or two? You can get away for a while and I could look after you...we can talk this over."

"You must hate me."

"No," he shook his head. "You couldn't have known. I'm not going to blame you for that."

"But I feel so terrible." she sniffed.

"I do too." he confessed. "But, seriously, once you have a day or two off, I'll take you home."

She didn't answer. She fell forward into Ichigo's arms and cried, and all he could do was let her.

"Who could it be?" Nel shook her head as she walked.

"I haven't the slightest idea. I've never heard of anyone being able to change their shape like that. Normally shape shifters have some sort of tell...something that gives 'em away..." Ranza rubbed the back of his neck. "But not this guy apparently. I mean, as it stands we don't even know _what_ this guy is or if he's even related to Ciego."

"I would be willing to bet on it though." Nel added. "I can't say we Arrancar are the kind to work on our own."

"Sure we are," Ranza put his hands behind his head and smirked. "You and I don't need someone giving us orders to get what we need, or what we want. I'd like to think we're completely independent."

"While I agree, I meant we tend to be at our most potent in groups." she elaborated.

"Ah yes, well, it takes two to tango I guess." he laughed.

_"Or, in your case, walk."_ Gusano whispered.

"But that could be said for a lot of things," Nel continued. "Even Shinigami."

"Oh sure." Ranza agreed. "On the other hand, though, there's an exception for every rule."

Both of them had seen that fact many times in their long lives. Before Aizen went against Soul Society, it was a frequent occurrence for lone Arrancar to attempt to murder him or Barragan. At least it was frequent before the Espada had been fully established and Las Noches was more like a fortress than a palace. Afterwards one would think any potential revolutionaries simply became too afraid to try, but not all of them. There's always one needle in every haystack.

"I haven't seen Largo around you much." Nel mentioned, wanting to change the subject.

"With Mama-san as usual." Ranza sighed. "He's been helping her out with Wrath, or at least that's what I've heard. I've seen them out and about over the last few weeks so I guess it's true."

"I'm surprised something hasn't combusted yet." Nel laughed a little.

"No kidding. Still...maybe she _has_ changed. You know, deep down I think most of us are just normal people; maybe she just needed a chance to find that out."

"That sounds awfully optimistic, even for you." Nel lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Hell, anyone that Aizen messed with deserves the benefit of the doubt. That man was monster."

"Yes, he was." Nel's tone suggested she was thinking back, remembering. "Still...you think we should go see her?"

"Nah, it's bad enough I've got one false leg, I don't need a false everything else. That would be depressing."

_"But think about it, man; if you got a prosthetic wang, you could get a bigger one!"_

"Shut up," Ranza growled at his leg.

_"Come on, you want to impress her, don't you?_"

"Just stop it already!"

"Leg buddy giving you trouble?" Nel snickered.

"He's like that sometimes." Ranza could feel his face heating with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"It's fine. He's not so bad. As long as he keeps his tentacles to himself we'll be just fine."

_"Ooh, baby, I'd-,"_

"Don't even go there, squiddy!"

_(II)_

It was late in the afternoon when Ulquiorra answered the gently knocking on his bedroom door. He was very surprised, it was even visible on his face, to see Orihime standing there. It wasn't so much that it was her, but what she was wearing. It was a stunning silk dress colored midnight blue, the straps scandalously thin; he never noticed that her shoes matched her dress. Her hair was fixed in a different way, she wore earrings that dangled and shimmered in the light. There looked to be a faint gloss to her lips.

"I-is there something that you need?" he felt like he was about to swallow his tongue.

"Here, put these on." and she held up a set of clothing on a hanger.

"Why?"

"Come on, we don't have a lot of time," she smiled at him and convinced him to take the clothing. With a puzzled look he quietly closed the door and began to change. New shoes, black slacks, an emerald green, button-down shirt, and a black blazer. All of it fit him very well, making him actually like what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

"Are you ready?" Orihime called from behind the door.

Instead of answering he simply opened the door. Something about the way she looked him over made him feel quite good.

"What is going on, Onna?"

"I just thought," she blushed a little. "I wanted to go out tonight with you. You've been kind of a shut-in lately."

"Ah, I see. Very well. Where is it we are going?"

"It's a surprise." by the sound of her voice, coupled with her slightly fidgety behavior, it would seem she was having some trouble keeping that secret. "You look great."

"S-so do you." the compliment had taken him by surprise, but not so much that he couldn't return the gesture. "I suppose we should be going now?"

"Yes, wouldn't want to be late." and she eagerly grabbed his arm, almost pulling him out of his room for the first time in days.

As they headed for the door, Grimmjow called from the living room. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Out." Orihime replied, hoping that would be the end of it.

"How long?"

"For a while."

"Okay...can I call a hooker?"

"Do you have money?"

It was quiet a moment, then, "Can I borrow some money?"

"No."

"Then can I watch porn?"

"Whatever makes you happy." she rolled her eyes and finally opened the door, walking out. There was a taxi waiting at the end of the walkway. Aside from his trip to Orihime's house on the bus, this was only the second time Ulquiorra had been in a vehicle. Orihime could tell by the way he looked around inside the cab that it fascinated him.

First thing on Orihime's evening agenda was dinner. There was a classy sports bar a couple blocks away. She didn't want anything too fancy, something relaxed where they could both feel comfortable. The meal went very well. Mind you Ulquiorra wasn't one for chit-chat, but it was still a good time for the couple.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked as he began folding his napkin into some shape or another. "Not that I do not appreciate the generosity."

"I just...I guess I just wanted to get out of the house and take you with me. I mean, you've been cooped up for weeks."

"Yes. It is nice to be out for a change. But I still do not understand what brought this about."

She was mildly amazed how he could continue to manipulate his napkin that way while looking at her and speaking all at the same time.

"I guess I just wanted some time alone with you." she admitted.

"That was all you needed to say." and then he smirked. He smirked.

She was far too busy dwelling on the elating absurdity of the tiny gesture to notice how he'd finished folding his napkin and had pushed it across the table towards her so she could see it. It looked like a peacock that had unfurled its impressive tail. She could only giggle when she finally realized it was there.

"You have a real talent for that." she said.

"Do I? I'm sure it's nothing special."

It was moments later when their food arrived, bringing what conversation there was to an almost complete halt. Orihime learned that Ulquiorra had come to genuinely enjoy food, and preferred not to be bothered much while he was eating. She honored those feelings and quietly ate. Once the food was gone they stayed only a short while longer before Orihime paid the bill and they walked back outside, she hailing another cab.

"Where are we off to now?" he asked once the car had begun to move. Once again he was slightly puzzled at the grin on her face.

"Well, I guess I could tell you now." she sighed. "I noticed you like musical theater; there's a pretty popular play in town this weekend and I thought you might want to see it."

Ulquiorra felt himself grow warm on the inside. What a loving, generous soul she was. Was this what humans did when they felt love for someone? Did they simply give of themselves for another just to see them happy? What a strange ritual...but not an unpleasant one. He found that Orihime's gestures, small and large, touched him somehow. He noticed that touch more and more as the weeks went on. He felt the urge to attempt a smile, but he forced it down. Part of him was somewhat worried that the gesture would be more unsettling than joyful, like Grimmjow's.

The line at the theater wasn't very long, so neither was their wait. Since they had already been to dinner, they didn't take the time to get concessions and went right inside to find their seats.

"What is this one called?" Ulquiorra asked quietly as the lights went down.

"The Phantom of the Opera." Orihime quickly answered.

The music started after the lights went out, and for the next few hours, Ulquiorra gave the act on stage his undivided attention. Orihime glanced at him from time to time throughout the show, finding herself smiling at how immersed he was in it. She had half expected him to analyze it all, find it trivial, and just sit there to appease her until it was over. But, somehow, the look in his eyes said he was enjoying it for what it was. There was a time near the end of the play, where the phantom and Christine are performing the tantamount duet of "Don Juan", that Ulquiorra squeezed her hand and refused to let go for several minutes. And his hand was hot, the skin a little slick with sweat.

When the show was over they caught a final cab ride home.

"I deeply appreciate you bringing me along." he said.

"You're very welcome. It's not like I would've gone out alone."

"I would imagine not. Certainly not dressed like that."

"Well, no." she laughed. "Do you like it?"

"Your clothing? Well...I suppose I do." it wasn't so much that he liked the dress, he liked how it made her look. He really, _really_ liked how the hem of the dress tempted to reveal her thighs whenever she sat down.

"Ulquiorra, can I ask you something?"

"Of course." if he had realized sooner what her tone of voice suggested as to the nature of the question, he would have said no.

"How do you feel about me? I mean...I have an idea, but..."

Ulquiorra felt his heart twist. Of all the questions... "I...I care about you. I believe I've made that evident."

"Yes. But what else is there...if anything?" she almost sounded afraid to ask that, as if it might hurt him somehow.

He was starting to sweat a little. "I am still not quite certain. There is more, so let that fear no longer trouble you. However I am finding it difficult to...comprehend and understand all of the different feelings."

"Care to elaborate?" she asked in a testing way.

_No_. His brow furrowed and stared at the back of the driver's head, thinking. "I will be blunt. I believe I desire you...physically." since the advent of his heart, he wasn't all that confident in using that ever looming "s" word.

Of course Orihime had already suspected as much, considering the few rather intimate encounters they had experienced. Still, hearing him say it meant he acknowledged it, and that gave her a sense of confidence in the matter.

"However I do not wish to put either of us in a position where I might let my desires get away from me. Controlling my physical needs was simple before, and now they are not. I do not avoid you for any reason other than that. I want you to be safe, even from me."

Before she could reply the cab had stopped, parking in front of the house. Without much delay she paid the cabbie and let him on his way. The two of them took their time making their way to the door, stopping at the threshold.

"I'm glad you're honest with me."

"I have nothing to gain from lying." he replied bluntly, his expression seeming surprised that she didn't already know that.

"I know, it's just...you've been distant recently."

"I apologize if that worried you." he sounded sincere, but that was just how he was. There was no pomp and circumstance with him.

"Yes, it did." she nodded. "I have another question."

Again, when he probably should have said no, he allowed her to ask.

"Stay with me tonight."

Ulquiorra swallowed and lifted one eyebrow. "Explain?"

"You don't have to, but...I'd like it if you stayed in my room tonight."

"I see." this was a potential disaster looking for a place to happen. The temptation would be destructive at best. But she was trusting him, had the endless faith to believe he would do her no harm. Perhaps, the cold calculator in him thought, now would be a time to test the human concept of faith?

"Very well." it was after his agreement that they went inside. It took a considerable amount of will power to ignore Grimmjow. He was fast asleep on the couch, but he had a spent can of Redi-whip in one hand with remnants of its contents around his mouth, and his other hand...well, I'll go ahead and let you guess.

Ulquiorra changed into his usual sleeping attire and found Orihime waiting for him in her doorway, already in her nightgown. Well, the dress she had been wearing was even less than what she was sleeping in, so he imagined it only took her a second or two to change. The closer he stepped to her bedroom, the more convinced he was that he wouldn't be doing much sleeping tonight.

In minutes the lights were turned out and the two of them settled beneath the covers. Immediately Ulquiorra couldn't get comfortable, feeling hot all over from the moment his head hit the pillow. The quiet in the room was damn near deadly.

"Your heart is racing." Orihime whispered in the dark, turning towards him.

"Yes." he said after swallowing the lump in his throat.

He could see her smiling as she shifted onto her elbows, leaned over him, and gave him a kiss. It was long-winded and slow, almost sensual.

"Goodnight." she said after pulling away, laying on her opposite side.

Ulquiorra stared at the ceiling, his brow low over his eyes. "I fail to see how that was supposed to make me feel better."

"You'll learn." she giggled.

_(III)_

Azar had been hard at work for the last five weeks, only taking an hour or two each day to sleep before going back to the ever growing machine. His Fraccion, even the golden robots, were working around the clock with him. The much larger robots would handle the equipment too sizable for Azar to move around, and would do some of the forging and welding for him. They were in no worry of injury, and even if they were damaged, it was an easy fix.

"I was the king of all Hueco Mundo, now look at me." the larger robot growled. He was actually beginning to look like the late monarch, scarred and wrinkled in the face.

"Yes, look at you, you're a grease monkey. Deal with it." hissed the other. He too had slowly changed his overall appearance to that of a tall lanky man, looking eerily like another formerly demised Espada.

"Do be quiet, both of you!" Azar shouted from behind the machine, now easily the size of a small building.

"Remind me again why we work for you?" asked the thinner robot.

"Because I could reduce you to slag at a moment's notice, and if you are who you claim to be, I seriously doubt you would want to be sent back to the hell you were dragged out of."

"I'm beginning to think hell would be a nice reprieve." the older one rumbled.

"Just keep working, would you?" and then the lab was filled with the creaking of a socket wrench and the pounding of gold and metal into shape.

A few hours later the lab doors swung open and in stepped Ciego with Valia on his arm, and behind them were all of their Fraccion.

"Azar, glad to see you hard at work." Ciego's voice echoed through the spacious chamber. "How goes it?"

With a grumble he set down his tools and stepped away from the machine. "It goes. It would go much faster without you dropping in so suddenly and so frequently."

"Now, now, no need to be snippy." Valia tried her best to mediate, but almost everything out of her mouth tended to sound like a come-on. "Let's all get along. How soon before it can be tested?"

"I need a few more hours at the very least." he crossed his arms, his expression one of chronic irritation. "But since when was I placed on a deadline?"

"No deadline, brother," Ciego put up his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Just eager to see what you can do."

"Kissing my ass won't get it done any quicker, either."

Ciego growled, his gaze becoming fierce. "So just a few hours then? So be it."

"I can't guarantee I'll be ready by then." Azar explained.

"Then I shall wait until you are." and he refused to leave, refused to move, and watched Azar work until it was well enough assembled to test, much to Azar's quiet disapproval. When he was done he set down his tools, bid his Fraccion leave, and stood before Ciego, his arms once again becoming crossed over his chest.

"Well?"

"Flip the switch." Ciego demanded softly with a smirk.

Down in the dungeon Urahara felt a great shift in the spiritual energy surrounding Las Noches. It was massive and sudden. Though nearly depleted of his life force and very weak, Urahara flinched. Something terrible was about to happen.

Author's Note: I'd like to think this chapter turned out pretty good, though, once again, I was a bit sloshed when I wrote some of it. Thankfully I write more than I drink or else this fiction would be ten light years passed suck. Don't know when the next chapter will be out, but I'll see you then.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Sixteen**

"_Now we must turn aside a little from our path, in the direction of that malignant beast that lies in wait." The Inferno: Canto XVII, Verse 27-29_

It was quiet in Soul Society tonight, which was a pleasant change. Aside from the doubling of the night watch, everything was normal.

Ranza kept the lamp on his bedside table lit, he wanted to be able to see her. He let his hands roam slowly over her body, feeling out every curve beneath her clothing. He felt himself smiling at the sweet blush warming her cheeks, the redness visible despite the Stigmata. When one hand dwelled close to her mouth she gently nipped at his fingertips, sending a delicious shock through his body. His other hand tightened around the top of her thigh, her body lifting beautifully with the prettiest sigh.

How it came about to this...it didn't matter. Only that they were here, like this.

"God, Nel," he growled low in his throat. "So long..."

She kissed his palm before leaning forward, her core grinding against his as she bent down to kiss him. She felt the scratch of his stubble against her palms, the tightness of his arms circling around her and fingers teasing into her hair.

"I love you...so much." he managed to whisper between kisses.

Nel straightened, looking down at him with an odd, almost uncertain expression. "You mean that?"

"If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'." he smirked, his eyes only half open. "All I've ever wanted was you. And if loving you is the last thing I do, I'll die a happy man."

Nel laughed a little. He was certainly a charmer, still she couldn't resist the urge to play with him a little. "Are you just kissing my ass so I'll sleep with you?"

Ranza laughed. "Heaven's no, I'll kiss your ass because it's damn beautiful. I'd never bullshit you."

"That's nice to know."

His smirk grew into a smile, his hands starting to roam again. With a lump forming in his throat and his heart quickening he chanced to pry apart the lapels of her yukata, just ever so slightly to where her skin was just peering from behind the fabric. She wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Ranza looked up at her, his eyes questioning.

"Go ahead." she said quietly.

Feeling like the luckiest man alive he continued. He reached for her shoulders, his fingers curling beneath the cloth and pushing it slowly down her arms. His breath hitched when the yukata fell passed her breasts, and he thought he was going to die.

Nel pulled her arms from the sleeves and then took his wrists, pressing his palms to her naked breasts, watching his eyes roll back as they closed. His hips lifted against her, his erection rubbing her through their clothes.

When his eyes opened he looked her over, worshiping her form. When his senses had returned he smiled. "We match." he said. His fingers touched the edge of her emptiness, the opening being exactly where it was on him, perhaps set just a little higher. Ranza didn't give her the opportunity to reply. He sat up, his arms secure about her as he rolled onto his side, taking her with him. He kissed down her neck, her collar bone, between her breasts until he couldn't withstand the hunger any long and took one flushed nipple into his mouth. Nel's fingernails bit into his scalp, but it was a delectable sting that made his hips flex forward.

"Ranza," she gasped, her chin against the top of his head.

He growled against her breast, his hands fumbling with the knot holding her hakama in place. He knew if he went to far she would stop him, so he was fine with moving at his own pace. The knot came undone and he pulled the hem of it down, finding a pristine abdomen with the cutest dimple of a belly button. His hand fanned over her belly, easing slowly downward. Her grip in his hair tightened as he touched between her legs, grunting at the sharp pinch as well as the stifling warmth he found there.

"Feel good?" he asked, never mind he was raised not to talk with his mouth full.

"Yes," she whimpered. "Don't stop, please."

Ranza encouraged her to lie on her back, propping himself up on one elbow. With a tug from Nel he lifted his head, she forcing him to kiss her while his fingers continued to tease her. He only paused a moment to shrug off his shirt, her hands threatening to rip it with impatience. He bit his lips against a groan as her soft fingers tip-toed across his chest and stomach, each touch a little spark to his nerves. He'd wanted her to touch him like this forever.

Nel shivered as his hand eased away from her core and smoothed over the swell of her buttocks, pushing the hakama that much further down. She could feel her heart opening to him, little by little, until her senses were consumed by him. His smelled of the sea, his kisses like cool water against her lips, and his touch was like waves crashing, thrilling to the bone. She still couldn't believe how she had ignored him for so long.

The situation began frantic, almost hurried. The two rose to their knees, Nel helping Ranza shed his pants. She paused a moment, looking him over, her expression softening.

"Does it ever hurt?" she asked, gesturing to his leg. The parasite was sleeping in the tub, leaving his stump bare.

"Used to," he sighed, watching his own hand slide down her arm. "All the time. Not anymore, not since I found you." Ranza cupped her face in his hands, looking her in the eye. "You're everything to me, Neliel, everything."

Nel felt herself blushing, putting her palms to his chest. Her heart was going a mile a minute and it left her feeling a little tipsy.

"Are you okay?" he noticed a change in her expression. "If you don't want to...I'll understand."

"No, no, it's not that. It's just," she thought about the words. "I guess you kind of took me by surprise."

"I'm not too sure what that means, but I'll take it as a compliment anyway." and they both shared a laugh. "Kiss me again."

Their bodies pressed together, skin touching skin, almost as close as two people could physically be. To Ranza's surprise he was the one pushed onto his back, Nel easing her legs on either side of him. They were so close, Ranza felt himself shaking, breathing faster with anticipation. He'd dreamed of this moment for decades, believing that they would never ever happen. Now he was here and he could have sworn he was dreaming. If not for the feel of her, her weight and warmth, he wouldn't believe this was happening.

Nel took him in her hands, feeling a thrill at his growl of pleasure. She could only stand to play with him a short while, feeling her own desire getting the best of her.

"Don't tease me," he begged breathlessly. "I love you, but please don't tease me."

"So you'll stay?" she asked.

Ranza looked at her, his eyes piercing. "As long as you'll have me...til I die."

_I'd never bullshit you._ His words, though somewhat crude, echoed in her mind. She was convinced he simply didn't have the capacity to lie to her.

Ranza's fingers pointed into the plump flesh of her thighs as she slowly took him inside of her. His lips flared to show his teeth, bits and pieces of a restrained growl clawing out of his throat.

"Nel," he breathed, his head pressing back into the pillows. He felt himself on the verge of weeping she felt so good.

Nel winced when she had settled, able to breathe again. The joining had been stubborn at first, bordering on painful, but now it was all right. Tolerable at the very least.

After what felt like an eternity of admiring her from afar, she was with him. Ranza felt whole, which he hadn't felt since he lost his leg. True, he was still in pieces, but he was complete.

Everything went slowly, carefully. Ranza held her securely by the hips, helping her find a pace they could both enjoy. It wasn't long before the awkwardness had passed, before it felt like everything Ranza had dreamed it would. The sound of her voice, her breath against his skin, the feel of her, it all fell into place. If he died right now he wouldn't have a care in the world.

There was no end to the sparks and shivers going through her as they made love. Her fingers curled tightly against his chest, leaving reddened welts and mimicking her toes as the ecstasy shot through her. Her heart skipped whenever their eyes met, and it seemed like Ranza couldn't keep his gaze off of her. It was like he could see right through her, read her like an open book. If that was the case, then surely he knew how much this was affecting her. At the back of her mind, so hot with a carnal haze, was the irrational fear of combustion.

Ranza shook with a heavy groan as he felt her body tighten around him. He unconsciously grabbed her breasts, carefully squeezing and flicking the erect nipples with his thumbs. His mouth watered when she pressed her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes closing. Damn she was so pretty, she stole his breath.

He sat up, holding her so she wouldn't fall as he managed her legs to lock at the ankles around his waist. His hands then clenched around her plush bottom, taking her full weight with little assistance.

"Ranza," she gasped, her nails cutting into his shoulders. "Faster,"

He complied, finding that her breasts had the most pleasant way of bouncing with the increased pace. He held her tightly by the hips as her body bent back, her chin tipped upward, and her hands bracing against the bed. He kissed her belly, nipping at the edge of the one thing that related her with Hollows. She suddenly screamed from behind a tightened jaw, her body starting to shake and tighten.

Ranza stilled, his expression tight at the brow as he focused to keep himself from climaxing. He just wasn't ready to be finished yet.

Nel collapsed against him, holding tightly as if in fear of falling. She showered him with kisses to his ear, his nose, his mouth. It felt like the earth was moving beneath her as Ranza eased her onto the bed, pressing himself between her legs once she was on her back. With his weight on his elbows Ranza laced his fingers between hers, holding their hands over her head as he reentered her. Her body bowed upward, their bellies pressing together as he took a breast in his mouth again.

His thrusts were steady, level and confident. Ranza slanted his lips open to hers, catching her gasps and tiny cries and letting them ripple through him. He released her hands so she could touch him, never mind that it seemed like all she wanted to do was claw at his back and arms. Ranza held himself up, looking down at her and feeling a peculiar twist in his heart.

"Look at me, Nel," he rasped. "Please, look at me."

When she forced her eyes open something struck her, hit home at the very center of her. It wasn't the tightness of all his muscles, how they twitched and played beneath his skin, or how the light of the lamp came through the hole in his belly, but it was something about his eyes...he was crying. It wasn't droplets of sweat falling between her breasts, but tears. She put her hands to his cheeks, smearing the tears with her thumbs. A painful sob left his body, as if the hurt were finally able to escape.

"I love you, Nel, so much," her cried.

She gently pulled him down until his forehead was pressing against her own. "Don't cry." she said. "I'm here...and I love you too." How could she not? They'd come this far after all. It was time to admit it.

Ranza could feel his heart breaking into a dozen pieces, but not in sorrow. He finally had everything he wanted with the admonition of her love. All those years of wandering, suffering, and heartache had suddenly become worth while.

It was perhaps midnight when, in a flurry of twined limbs and flexing muscles, their union was concluded. For a long moment Nel held him against her, petting his hair as continued to cry quietly against her shoulder. She could almost feel the pain seeping out of him, through his very pores it seemed. Finally they made their way beneath the blankets, Nel putting out the light as Ranza dozed behind her. Off and on throughout the night he would sleepily kiss her neck and shoulders, waking between dreams to find her still there.

He would dream of his time in Aizen's prison, his stump bandaged and bleeding, the cell's key hidden between the bloodstained layers of fabric. He dreamed of the hopelessness, the pain in his body and his heart. But the dreams were brief.

When he woke the next morning he slowly sat up, stretching his arms high over his head. After wiping the sleep from his eyes he looked around, smiling when he saw Nel still in his bed. He curled himself along her back, his hand resting on the rise of her hip. One of her eyes opened, sliding to look at him.

"Good morning," he purred, kissing the curve of her ear.

"Morning," she sighed in reply. "Do you know what time it is?"

"No. Don't really care, to be honest. I'm with you, that's what matters."

She smiled. "I think it's time to get out of bed."

"But it's so warm and comfy." he whined a little.

"Hey, out there! Anyone awake? Come on, I'm getting all pruny!" came Gusano's voice from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Just a minute, Squiddy," Ranza grumbled. "I'll get him."

"No, it's okay," Nel started to get up. "Let me."

Ranza watched her as she dressed, thinking she was twice as splendid in the light of day than in the dull glow of a lamp. As she disappeared into the bathroom he noticed something that struck him strangely. There had been no first time pain, no blood on the sheets. Had she...

She returned with the leg to find Ranza sitting on the edge of the bed, the blanket across his lap. He took the limb with a nod of thanks before shoving it into place with a loud crunch and a wince. Then he pulled on his pants, sitting back down once he'd buttoned them.

"Nel, can I ask you something?"

"Of course." she replied as she found her sword leaning against the wall.

"Was...I wasn't your first, was I?" he swallowed. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to...I'm just curious."

For a moment she was quiet, her back to him. Then she turned, her face dark with what looked like long-standing regret. "It's like you said...Aizen was a monster." and she left without another word, perhaps so she wouldn't have to face his reaction.

Ranza only sat there, his hand slowly reaching to clutch at his chest while his heart began clenching hard.

"Did I miss something?" Squiddy chanced, receiving not a word from his host.

_(–)_

If it wasn't evident before, allow me to state that Wrath was not a person who liked change. So one could imagine her discomfort when Hanataro didn't come for her that morning. At first it only served to make her uneasy, then she was flat out irritated. She began pacing around her room like a caged tiger, her mood growing fouler by the minute. But she found herself slightly confused when her cell was finally opened. The tiny Shinigami with pink hair came barreling through door, arms out and giggling like a fool. She jumped up and climbed onto Wrath's shoulders, much to the Arrancar's mild dismay. Wrath saw Largo walking into the room and gave him a questioning look.

"Apparently there's some sort of meeting." he said, stifling a yawn and wiping sleep from his eyes. "She wants both of us to come."

His answer didn't serve to ease her discomfort.

"Giddyap, big bear, or we'll be late!" Yachiru tightened her arms around the Arrancar's neck, almost too tight.

Luckily Isane was waiting in the hall way to show them the way, because Lord knows Yachiru is about as potent as a fart in a windstorm when it came to giving directions. Turns out Madame President of the Lady Shinigami's Association demanded that the two Arrancar attend the meeting. Why? Because she said so, that's why.

Wrath found it strange that the club gathered behind a secret panel in Byakuya Kuchiki's mansion. Did he not know about it? From what she had seen of him, the captain seemed like a very level, wise man, so how is it he could miss an entire room in his own home?

Everyone looked up and stared when they walked in, the door sliding closed behind the four of them. Wrath could feel the eyes on her, noticed how everyone was suddenly uneasy. She had expected that, deep down she knew it would be like this no matter where she went within this place. However some of the tension went away when she crouched low on her knees and knuckles so Yachiru could safely dismount from her seat behind Wrath's head. It was still strange, but now not so much.

Wrath remembered the Shinigami with no expression as she served her and Largo tea. The polaroid memory in her head didn't exactly instill the most loving of feelings, but she no longer felt threatened. Something the Arrancar had noticed; she was much slower to anger since her mask had been broken, so long as no one tried to put their hands on her. She didn't want to snap at the captain with white hair the other day, but she didn't like how liberal he was with her personal space.

She faintly remembered another of the Shinigami, the one with her hair up and the glasses. But the picture in her head just wasn't all that clear, which was surprising. Most of the other women in the room were unfamiliar with the exception of the captain that appeared to act like everyone's mother, the one Largo often called "Nana".

Needless to say the Arrancar were rather oblivious to the goings on of the meeting. They caught a few things here and there, nothing terribly important. By the sounds of it they were planning on their next fundraiser, which was going to be another attempt at a calender comprised of photographs of various Shinigami.

Wrath watched with curiosity, only turning away when Largo tugged on her clothes to get her attention. She looked down to see him pointing, his bottom lip between his teeth as if to suppress a sound. With a wrinkled brow Wrath looked, trying to find what he was looking at. When she wasn't sure, she looked back at him shaking her head.

"This one," he whispered, pulling his arms into his shirt and pushing them outward and upward near his chin, pantomiming that he had large breasts. Even someone as simple as Wrath could find it in her to appreciate a good joke, especially since the imitation allowed her to pick out who he was pointing. She had long, fair hair and-wouldn't you know it?-large breasts.

Once Wrath started giggling, she couldn't stop. For the first time in her life or afterlife, a sound other than a grunt, growl, or snarl came out of her mouth. Sure, it kind of sounded like gravel being broken, but it was a start.

Everyone was staring at her again, but for the moment she didn't care. What was this feeling? This exhilarating thrill that made her heart race from something other than fury? All she knew was that it felt good.

Matsumoto and the other Shinigami exchanged puzzled glances. "What's so funny?"

"I haven't the slightest," Nanao adjusted her glasses, perhaps unsure if she was seeing properly.

"Back to business!" Yachiru demanded with her hands in the air.

Nanao cleared her throat. "Well, Madame President, the biggest problem with our fundraiser is finding willing subjects to photograph. The second is a way to ensure that it sells."

"Well, let's take a look at our target audience." Unohana suggested.

"A majority of Seireitei's population is made up of men. Many of them you could call middle-aged." Soifon pointed out. "Perhaps it would be best to make the photos appealing to them."

"So I would imagine that simple pictures of the captains would not generate nearly enough revenue to call this a success." Nanao starting jotting something down in her book, as if the thing never ran out of blank pages. "So what do we do? Any suggestions?"

"What else appeals to a bunch of testosterone junkies crammed in a city this size where its one woman for every couple dozen of them?" Matsumoto wondered aloud. "Just do a swimsuit calender."

"I love it!" Yachiru threw her hands up again. "Let's get started!"

"Madame President it's not that easy." Nanao interjected as the killjoy she tends to be for the little girl. "There's a lot of planning to be done, schedules to work around, comfort zones to invade."

"Maybe it would be a good idea to get a guy in on this. I mean, who would know what men want to see better than a man?" Matsumoto added.

"That's a good suggestion." Unohana nodded. "But who?"

"What about Ayasegawa?" Isane suggested.

"Isn't he gay?" Rangiku looked to her fellow vice-captain curiously. "I mean, yeah that makes me feel more comfortable, but,"

"No, no," Isane blushed hard and tried not to trip on her words. "I think his concept of beauty is a little more...classy than other men."

"Even I'm willing to agree with that." Nemu said.

"We don't want pornography, we want beautiful." Isane finished. Everyone seemed to concur.

"Regardless of the fact that most of these guys are going to treat it like porn anyway?"

Unohana smiled. "As long as they are willing to pay."

The laughter and the nervous blushing came to an abrupt halt. There was a loud crash, a violent tremor ripping through the earth beneath them. The meeting was unofficially adjourned as everyone steadily rushed out of the room. It seemed to be clear that this occurrence certainly wasn't natural as the alarm went out all through Seireitei. Wrath was finally able to stop laughing. Her instincts flared at a sudden flux of reiatsu that fell over her like a hot shiver. It was massive. She quickly put Largo up on her shoulders and made her way outside, gripping the edge of the roof so she could have the higher vantage. Outside the wall, in the Rukongai, something was happening. Something unsettling to say the least.

There was a shimmer hanging in the air over Rukongai, and that light slowly grew. Stretching and curling into the shape of a monstrous arc. Then the entirety of the space within the confines of the arc seemed to disintegrate, falling away and opening up into a gaping nothingness. Reiatsu fluxed again, this time more heavily. Something was coming through that darkness. Wrath scrambled across the roofs, watching in passing the hordes of Shinigami moving below. It looked like they were all heading towards the south gate, the gate closest to the disturbance. She only stopped a brief moment atop Fourth Squad's barracks to set Largo down. The last thing she wanted was for him to get hurt. Then she was moving again. Whether she could help or not didn't much matter, she just had to know where that spirit pressure was coming from, why it felt oddly familiar.

Out of the darkness came the host of Arrancar from Las Noches, one of the golden golems close behind them, the smaller of the two. They descended into the villages at a leisurely pace, smiling as if too proud for their own good. Ciego made a gesture with his hands, a way of telling the others they could do as they pleased. And they certainly did. The poor villagers didn't stand a chance.

"You know, Valia," Ciego began, "I've always wondered what Seireitei was like."

"Why don't we take a look for ourselves then?" she smirked back, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I suppose. At the very least we should introduce ourselves."

_(II)_

Ulquiorra woke with a start. He was quick to realize how everything was shaking, the creaking and cracking of pavement and foundations loud enough to wake the dead. He rolled out of bed, hitting the floor hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of him. There was a sudden, stabbing pain going through his head, there was a huge shift of spiritual energy and it pierced him. His eyes threatened to roll back when Orihime knelt over him.

"Get up," she shouted, "it's an earthquake!"

She pulled him off the floor with all her might, managing to get him to his feet and help him unsteadily to the safety of the doorway. Everyone in the house held on for dear life for several minutes, until the shaking finally stopped.

Ulquiorra carefully pried Orihime's arms from around him, lifting his head. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." she nodded, trying to catch her breath and calm down. "What's the matter?"

He knew something wasn't right, he could feel it in his bones. He pulled away from her and made a dash for the door, ignoring her demands to know where he was going. Out the door and onto the sidewalk he ran, up the street and then around the corner. At the top of the hill he stopped, the throbbing in his bare feet caused by the unforgiving pavement the last thing on his mind.

On the western horizon it looked like something had blown away part of the sky. It was a massive, gaping hole of nothing. Ulquiorra found himself staring into it, perhaps expecting something to stare back. It appeared that nothing was there, but he could feel something...

There was another ripple of spirit energy, a huge one, and it came barreling out of the darkness. He could see the distortion reaching further and further across the city, buildings swaying and power poles snapping at the base. He realized almost too late that it showed no sign of stopping. It would touch the whole island. He turned on his heels and started back just as quickly as he came. He could feel it, whatever it was, nipping at his heels just as he turned the corner.

Terror gripped his heart as he saw Orihime running towards him. He couldn't find the words to shout "Get back inside!"; he just kept moving, feeling the need to bite his tongue. When she stopped in the middle of the street he couldn't help but mentally berate her, though the words never left his mouth. He peered over his shoulder, finally seeing what he was feeling. There was no time. He followed his instincts and scooped Orihime up in his arms and kept running, reaching the far side of the sidewalk before crouching down and covering her the best he could.

Cars were tossed about, landing several blocks away from their parking spaces. Roofs were ripped right off like they were little more than paper instead of steel and tile. Windows throughout the city simply shattered into dust.

Orihime had her eyes tightly shut as the wave washed over them, feeling as if it could lift them off the ground. She clung to Ulquiorra so hard her knuckles were starting to hurt. She could feel herself starting to shake. She winced at the tightness of Ulquiorra's fingertips at her shoulders. When she opened her eyes it was dark.

"Ulquiorra?"

He slowly uncurled his body, feeling muscles in his back moving differently. When he straightened he realized why. He looked down at his hands to see horrid black claws and thick pitch colored hair going all the way up to his shoulders. A long, whipping tail curled below his backside and lethal horns had ripped through his scalp. His imposing wings spread wide and had been responsible for covering Orihime so well, having been more akin to a shield. He didn't even want to look at his feel, able to feel what they must look like. And by the way Orihime was looking at him, he must have looked horrid.

She wasn't afraid, certainly not of him. If anything she was more afraid of that invisible wall that had just crashed through the city. They Ulquiorra looked now was not a new thing, in fact the change in his appearance made her mind dwell back to the doll she'd received on her birthday.

"What has happened?" he asked, looking more panicked than he sounded.

With a brief thought Orihime reached behind his head, pushing the strands of hair aside to see the back of his neck. "The seal is gone." she said.

"What?"

"The seal is gone. I don't know how, but it is."

His eyes widened. "Now Shinigami are sure to find me."

"I have a feeling they'll be too busy worrying over whatever that was to come after you. What was that anyway?"

Ulquiorra had set aside his relief at how little his transformation troubled her. "It appeared to be...a gateway of some kind. I do not know what is inside of it, and I surely do not wish to find out."

"I'm with you. Come on, let's get you back inside."

"Perhaps we should contact Yoruichi. I am sure she knows of this by now, but I believe it would be safer for all of us to be nearby."

"Once you change back." she helped him to his feet and kept her hand around his as they headed for the door.

With a nod of his head, he began trying to remember how.

_(III)_

A detachment of Eleventh Squad was immediately dispatched to the Rukongai to contain the situation, make it safe enough for further investigation. No one told them that Arrancar had already stepped through, terrorizing the villagers to their vicious content. Many lay dead in their homes and littering the ground, their faces contorted with their final moments of horror. Judecca was particularly cruel, freezing people's insides and leaving them to slowly die in rigid agony.

Ciego watched with a firm expression as the Shinigami drew closer. "We may have to postpone our visit, Valia." he purred.

"Oh, pooh," she pouted. "We can still let the little ones have some fun, can't we?" she requested, referring to their Fraccion.

"It wouldn't be best to linger. I don't know how long the portal will stay open." Azar cautioned. "God only knows what else it's done."

"Don't be such an old lady, Azar." Ciego chuckled. "Let them have their fun. Ptolomaea, Antenora, Judecca, come!"

"They will find their way home, Azar." Valia assured in her usual tone of frivolity. "Come along."

Azar shook his head, turning back towards the portal with a quiet grumble. No one listened to him. Hell, let them live with it. They left Azar and Valia's Fraccion behind along with the automaton, allowing them free reign. The portal did not close behind them.

"Perhaps this new life isn't all that bad." the robot whirred happily. "Even Aizen never let me have this much fun." and a wicked laugh cut through the air. With a sweep of his sword he leveled a small home, crushing the family inside beneath the remains. He could see the Shinigami coming up the hill, an all too familiar face at the head of the pack.

"If it isn't the pencil dick who killed me," he sneered, his metallic lips slowly curling into a too wide smile. He turned, looking until he spotted Azar's servant. "Hey, bald boy, stay close to me." The Fraccion scaled the robot's back, taking hold and hiding beneath the shield. "Smart lad. Now lets crack some skulls!"

With a little bit of effort on her part, Wrath was able to disappear in a cloud of red smoke and reappear outside the walls of Seireitei. She was only able to do so because the gate was open. It was a fleeting moment that she considered just running. She could get away if she tried, but where would she go? With that being said she shoved the idea to the back of her mind.

Staying out of sight she was able to follow the members of Eleventh Squad to the village. Staying low to the ground and moving quickly she crept up to where the pastures ended and the dwellings began. Behind a pile of rubble and bodies she hid for a moment, sniffing the air. Her senses fished through the smells of fresh corpses and what appeared to be burning oil. She chanced a peek.

The rage bubbled up immediately.

She didn't know any of them by name, but she knew their faces. She kept those particular snapshots hidden in a secret corner, hoping to never think of them again. Her lips flared back to show her fangs, a growl rumbling through her as she watched the three Arrancar turn back, three others with snow white hair following closely behind. Others were still here, and she could smell them. Everything suddenly went red.

Kenpachi drew his sword, meeting with gusto the much heavier blade of the robot.

"Come on, tin man, that all you got?" Kenpachi laughed, still pushing.

"I've only gotten started!" and the robot surged forward.

The other Shinigami spread out, searching for any other Arrancar or any survivors. It wasn't very long before they encountered the silent Fraccion wielding his bloody mace. With the tip of his weapon resting in the bloody cavity of his latest victim's skull, he looked at the Shinigami with mad, shimmering eyes. He made a sound akin to laughing, one of the few sounds he could make.

"You think we can take him?" Ikkaku rubbed the top of his head.

"Undoubtedly," Yumichika drew his sword. "Someone _that_ ugly can't be much of a problem. _Bloom, Fuji Kujaku_." His Zanpakuto curled and split into four separate blades, each one wickedly sharp. He went for the Arrancar first, Ikkaku attempting to flank him shortly after.

Using the mace as a prop the Fraccion lifted himself, twisting his body in such a way that his feet found purchase atop Ikkaku's head. He then flipped backwards to the ground, giving the Shinigami a hard kick to the spine before spinning on his heel to connect with Yumichika's face, leaving bloody boot prints on the both of them. Then, in a blur of movement, he went for the other Soul Reapers. He had been bored these last few decades serving Valia, so he planned to enjoy every moment of this.

"My face, my beautiful face!" Yumichika cried, blood trickling from his now split lip. "I'll kill him!" Had he suddenly gone mad?

Meanwhile, Kenpachi met the golem blow for blow with his sword. Tiny tremors went through the ground, the jolts appearing and impressions beneath the captain's feet. It was almost hard for him to believe something this big could move as quickly as it did, or put as much weight behind its strikes. Finally, an opening! Kenpachi made a horizontal cut as he lunged forward, certain he severed the machine at the waist. He watched as the robot still, its top slowly sliding off its bottom in a wake of sparks. It hit the ground heavily, a metallic thud making the ground shake again. He was about to sheath his sword with a shrug of slight disappointment...when he paused.

The machine started laughing, its limbs moving. It reached and grabbed its legs, pushing his body back together as the gold began reacting. It melted, bubbled and stretched, finally bonding the parts as if they were never severed. The golem stood again, still potent and functioning. He turned to Kenpachi and let its long tongue roll out of its mouth as it continued to laugh.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to beat me this time, Shinigami!"

Kenpachi felt himself giggle. "You act as if you know me."

"Oh, I do! You ended my life once before, though you saw me then a bit...differently."

Kenpachi thought about it a moment, his blade resting on his shoulder. With his one eye he scrutinized the robots face from where he stood, noticing the exaggerated smile, the one eye missing, and the ridiculous tongue.

"You were one of Aizen's little runts, weren't you? I remember now."

"I'll show you runt!" and with the blade in his hands he charged the Shinigami.

When the golem was close enough Kenpachi shifted his feet and retaliated, cutting him long ways down one huge, metallic arm. It split the gold cleanly, but it was only a few seconds before it fused back together, the limb working as it should.

"You will die here, Shinigami! I will see to that!" Nnoitra's voice echoed within the statue's frame.

The battle was fierce, a blur of movement and the chiming of metal striking metal, sparks flying. Whenever the golem was damaged, it would repair itself; Kenpachi wasn't so fortunate. The golden sword was just as sharp as any steel weapon, leaving deep cuts and other wounds in Kenpachi's flesh. However, as you might guess, the captain found this rather fun. He met the challenge with the same zeal and acceptance as he would any other.

Wrath could not catch the other Arrancar, but there were still others nearby, which she found acceptable to satisfy her violently growing anger. She picked up on one of the many scents and scrambled on all fours to find its source. It was the stink of that terrible fortress, an odor she could never forget. She slid to an eventual stop across a patch of ice left behind by Judecca, finding the blue haired Fraccion that still remained fighting tooth and nail with a pair of Shinigami.

The rage bubbled higher and higher, building the pressure to a breaking point. Her skin and the whites of her eyes tinted a dark red before the color leeched out of her and into a mist. The Rage Aura was back. With a hard pound of her fists to the dirt she let out an animalistic cry, demanding everyone's attention.

"Oh shit...I think...we might want to step aside." Ikkaku held his weapon in mid-strike.

"I'm willing to agree. Let the ugly people work this out." and the two of them got out of the way while the getting was still good.

The Fraccion made a snorting sound at the sight of Wrath, as if he felt no fear in her presence at all. He swung the mace in a way that shook some of the blood and brain matter off of the metal studs that dotted its surface. Then he held it at the ready, tempting Wrath, tempting a very cruel death.

So much motion so fast would have made a normal man dizzy. Whenever the mace hit its mark there would be a loud thud followed by a puff of red mist. It didn't seem to affect the Fraccion as it did Shinigami, the Arrancar's temperament level and unchanging. His eyes didn't become red, on the threshold of blindness.

Wrath took heavy blows to the body without much more than a flinch or a grunt. The studs pierced her skin while the weight crushed bones. They only fused back together within seconds. Even if they didn't the hate would keep her moving in spite of the pain. The hate always kept her moving. And there was so much of it. She struck the Fraccion in the chest, the belly, the knees. Even without her greaves she was able to pierce his toughened skin. Why not go for the face? There was no telling with her.

A swipe of her claws caught him in the throat, nearly severing his head. Blood spilled between his fingers as he grabbed at the open wound with one hand. Wrath gripped him firmly by the hair, rearing back her other hand as a prelude to ending his life. But she stopped. She let him go when she heard a terrible, shrill laugh that echoed for what seemed like miles. The Fraccion scrambled for his life back towards the gate when Wrath left him. He didn't know why, he didn't care.

She dashed between two houses still standing, out into the main thoroughfare where the golden robot was still out for Kenpachi's head. By the looks of it the machine was hunched over the captain, just cutting downward over and over, giggling like a fool. There wasn't blood everywhere so one could guess that Kenpachi was managing rather well.

Wrath leaped like a tiger after a meal towards the automaton, latching onto the brim of the broad shield mounted on its back. She pulled and pulled, knowing good and well something smelled more than wrong. The metal groaned and rippled until with a loud _ping_ it came loose. Once her feet hit the ground she spun once around on her heel, hurling the shield like a frisbee back at its owner. Too late it tried to move, its legs now cut off at the knees. With great metallic arms flailing, the robot stumbled and hit the ground once more, this time with his voice upwardly echoing full of curses and obscenities. Wrath leaped onto his back without delay, digging and ripping through gears and plates of solid gold until she wrenched the little Fraccion out of his hiding place and tossed him hard to the ground.

She wasted no time in assailing him again. Within mere seconds she was there, one of her large hands curled against his face, covering his mouth so he couldn't speak, never mind how the little bastard bit at her palm. Again and again she slammed his head into the ground, creating a large dent in the dirt.

Perhaps it was a strike of luck that he was able to give her a good, solid kick to the knees, one of them hyper-extending and snapping at the joint. She yelped at the pain and stumbled back a step, clutching at the wound until it healed. It gave the Fraccion enough time to stand and gather himself.

"Embalm, Chakal!"

He changed as melted gold does, bubbling, churning and reforming. His skin turned black and tough, his face molded into something long and animal, he grew fangs and claws and pointed ears.

With a twist Wrath popped her knee back to where it should be, now ready to stand up to Chakal, the Fraccion's release form. Yes, he was some dog-faced Egyptian reject, his bone collar now studded with gold and jewels, but he wasn't nearly savage enough to handle Wrath. In any fight, this bear was always bigger, and it showed.

"God damned Shinigami!" Nnoitra screamed. With his limbs still swinging around he just happened to get his hand around Kenpachi, and in his rage, hurled him off into the great unknown without looking. You'd be surprised how far a man as big as him could fly. He managed onto his front, now able to crawl towards his legs. As he reached for them he realized who had split him in two with his own shield.

The battle between Wrath and Chakal was fierce, savage, but rather brief. The big difference between Wrath and other Arrancar, is that she fought to kill, nothing else. It was in her blood, it was in her bones, simple murder. Chakal was fighting to flee, looking to disable her enough to escape, but no- he needed to fight to survive, not just get away. The only genuine thoughts to pass through her mind in combat was the looking for an opening to fatally exploit. And she found Chakal's.

His powers allowed him to produce bands of silken gold that, once coming in contact with its target, set and became heavy. He went for the hands, feet, throat, but gold can only take you so far. Wrath was too strong to be held by some trivial yellow metal. As she came over him, her claws grabbing at his snout, he managed to wrap her torso in the stuff, drawing it tighter and tighter. Wrath forced her fingers between his strong jaws, ignoring the slicing sting of his teeth. When she found the grip she need, she forced the jaws apart, further and further until..._SNAP_. He hit the ground like a limp doll full of bones and mud. Just...flop, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. She stood over the body, panting from the tightness of the metal around her ribs and belly. She had begun to rip it away when...

"Baby bear,"

The terribly cheerful voice set her pulse racing and the rage come surging like it hadn't since before her mask was broken. As she turned, her face full of fury, she saw the robots face and recognized it immediately. There was no name to go with the picture he fit in her memory, but he didn't need one. She would hate him all the same without it.

A massive metal hand curled around her ankle and yanked her upward, much to her angry thrashing and snarling. She went so far as to gnaw on his fingers. He tossed her in the air only to catch her, now upright with her arms pinned to her sides within his grip. He brought her close to his gilded face, smiling the disgusting, corrosive smile.

"What's this I have here?" he whirred. "Long time no see, baby bear. And don't you have a pretty face?"

Wrath screamed, squirming and biting.

"They let you out of the forest, huh? Only to put you in another cage, I bet. What's the matter, not too happy to see me?" and he drew her that much closer so he could lick her with that cold, serpentine tongue.

Wrath took as deep a breath as she could, trying to ignore the snapping of ribs from his tight grip. When she couldn't inhale any further, out it came in a veil of bright red flames.

"You stupid whore!" he wailed as the fire began to melt his only eye.

She wriggled out of his grip, holding onto one finger so she could swing towards his neck. She sank in her claws and began to rip away at it, her mind blank with frenzy. Oil and and other fluids spitting out of joints and tubes, sparks crackling out of torn wiring. The robot made the distinct sounds of someone drowning in his own blood, if that blood was black and greasy. Actually, now that I think about it, that would probably be fitting for Nnoitra. Still, even after the machine stopped moving, went silent, she would-couldn't-stop. The aura coalesced and began to seep out of her eyes, bloody tears smeared together with pitch black oil.

When Kenpachi returned from wherever he had landed, he found the mess that was the Arrancar tearing the robot to pieces, and the other Arrancar's corpse on the ground growing cold. The other members of the detachment that were still able to move had gathered in wide circle, their swords still drawn. Each of them shared a strange mixed expression of curiosity and, almost, disgust.

She had, in the end, grabbed the gigantic golden sword, cleaving into him without hesitation, again and again with oil splashing and gushing upward. When at last she stopped, with the tarnished head gripped in one hand, she stood up with a roar of triumph.

Gasping for breath she came back down from her rage high, finally registering all the people watching, the heaving of her chest, and the throbbing around her claws and fangs. Her instincts first told her to fight back; the Shinigami were threatening her, she needed to get away, but she reigned it in. Exerting a form of self-control that was still so very new, she took a deep breath and gathered her composure. Slowly, calculated, she stepped down from the jagged remains after dropping the sword, the head still in her grip. Without a word she walked passed the Shinigami, ignoring their heavy stare, and peaceably went back toward Seireitei.

A small number of the detachment remained behind to clean up the mess, make the needed arrangements for Twelfth Squad to come and do a formal investigation. The rest went back to Soul Society, closely trailing Wrath, to give a full report. One could only imagine the widespread curiosity as the Arrancar and the Shinigami entered the city together.

Author's Note: This ended terribly. I feel like this last section was forced, but I can't think of it going any other way. Sorry if you don't like it, but hopefully I'll be able to make it up to you, because the next chapter has a lot of explaining to do.


	17. Chapter 17

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Seventeen**

"_Now I must turn strange torments into verse to form the matter...the one about the damned." The Inferno: Canto XX, Verses 1-3_

Azar was severely displeased, fuming. His Fraccion was dead along with one of his priceless robots, both mutilated. And now Ciego was insisting he continue working to improve that damn portal spitting monstrosity he'd built. His fists clenched tightly, his nails biting into his palms as he sat at his work table. Updating the device was possible, but now it would take easily twice as long; he couldn't fabricate his own parts and the best he could get was some of the palace servants to help him. When it became almost too much to bear he slammed his forehead on the table, growling loudly in his frustration. Even Valia, the A-list slut that she was, couldn't bring him any genuine comfort.

"Life's not fair, is it?" the last of the robots loomed over Azar, his tone was bordering on mocking.

Azar turned his head, his cheek still on the table. "You're so funny." he grumbled.

"A king needs a good sense of humor."

Azar finally sat up and turned in his seat, looking up. The towering oddity was indeed starting to look more and more like the old monarch. Azar had only seen Barigan once or twice, and it had been long ago, but he found the withered features familiar.

Joints creaked and gears whined as the robot turned to look over its shoulder at the machine. "What exactly did this thing do, anyway?"

"Opened gateways," he used the plural form, knowing there was undoubtedly more than one. Where the others went, that was the question. "This one," he pointed to the glowing opening surrounded by serpent faced Hollows as guards. "Goes to Soul Society."

"Hmm, a prime opportunity."

"Indeed. I would imagine Ciego is trying, as we speak, to come up with something. With him you never know for sure."

"Erratic, is he?"

"In the worst ways. Chances are, whatever he decides, it will be something rather substantial, something people will see and remember. With that said, there's no way of knowing."

"That's no way to run a kingdom." Barigan shook his head.

"Certainly not that way_ I_ would do it." said.

"Nor I." the robot agreed. "At this rate...I suppose you could say your brother is a disaster simply looking for a place to happen?"

"That is a good analogy."

"Perhaps," Barigan would try it, at this rate he would try anything. "We could rectify this?"

Azar turned his head, one jet black brow shifted upward. "Are you suggesting,"

"I could be. Just think about it a moment; you're perhaps the brightest of the bunch, and I have experience as a ruler. I would imagine it to be a simple, though perhaps difficult maneuver."

Azar mulled it over in his head, weighing the possibilities with the same scrutiny as he weighed his gold coins. It was certainly a tempting offer, to own...it preyed on his strongest vice and it was almost impossible to ignore.

Before he could voice his concerns, the guards around the portal shifted, their tridents at the ready as something stepped through the opening.

"Good morning, fellow sinners!" Dorian greeted with his usual disgusting joy. "How are we today?"

"What do you want?" Azar stood from the table, his foul mood rearing its ugly head as he scowled at his little brother.

"I need to speak with Ciego, is he around?"

"Where else would he be other than the throne room?" Azar hissed.

"Valia's room." Dorian answered, his grin growing slightly. "Which I can't help but wonder, maybe the four of us should have a slumber party sometime."

"Get out of here, you loathly wretch!" and Greed thrust a finger towards the door so he wouldn't get lost on his way out.

"So testy," Dorian chuckled. "I bet you're the bondage type."

"Get _OUT_!"

_(–)_

Ciego stirred and stood up from Valia's bed, still naked. He found his clothing on the floor, leisurely dressing as if he had all the time in the world. As he tightened the sash about his waist he felt a small ripple of spiritual energy.

"Dorian," he said without turning. "Long time."

"I know, I know, but at least I've been busy."

"I had no doubt." he laughed a little, enjoying his own sense of sarcasm. "Do you have anything important to tell me?"

"In fact I do. You wouldn't believe some of the things I've come across." Dorian was sitting on the foot of the bed, eyeballing Valia's naked buttocks peaking out from beneath the twisted sheets.

"Please, do share."

"Well, for starters, things have been an absolute circus since you're little visit yesterday."

"Have they? Wonderful."

"It was Wrath that killed the Fraccion and destroyed Azar's toy."

Ciego felt his eyebrow lift. "Was it now? A fascinated development, all things considered. Are you saying she was _helping_ the Shinigami?"

"It appeared that way. Don't ask me why, but I'm willing to guess she hates us more than the Soul Reapers. From I have seen they've actually been taking, in some semblance, good care of her."

Ciego shook his head. "Surprises, surprises. What else?"

"Soul Society, more or less, confiscated the bodies, the robot too. But that's actually a good thing."

"How so?"

"Nnoitra didn't die when the machine stopped."

"How do you know this?"

"I've spoken with him recently. It's actually a funny story."

"Spare me the frivolous details, if you please."

"Well, it's somewhat hard to explain, but I will tell you that our not-so-dearly departed friend had an idea."

"In regards to what?"

"I'm sure you'll like it. It will take some doing, a big risk by some standards, but it would be well worth it."

"Get on with it already!" Ciego growled.

"Well, first, we'll need to bring Bordell out of his dungeon and get him in on our little chat."

Immediately Ciego liked where this was headed. "Go fetch him then, I will meet with you in the throne room."

Dorian made a priceless face of revolt. "Me? Go get him? Mind you, I haven't had my shots, so I'm prime for anything he...has."

"Yet you've fucked more women in your short lifetime than anyone and you're not concerned a hint over that?"

"I have my standards." he protested.

"Of course you do," Ciego chuckled. "But move along, I don't want to wait long."

Dorian cringed hard as Ciego walked out, just thinking of Bordell made him want to rip his own eyes out. Still, he did as his brother asked, taking his sweet time descending into the bowels of the palace. Before he even reached the last step of the final descending staircase, Dorian smelled Bordell before seeing him. The buzzing of flies and gnats were everywhere, and the chambers reeked of bog rot.

Dorian cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn't vomit in the process. "B-Bordell, are you here?"

"Of course I am,"

Dorian shuddered, feeling the cold, wet breath on his shoulder, hearing it wheeze out of his brother's body. He turned, knowing he wouldn't like what he saw.

"What do you want?" Bordell narrowed his yellowed eyes on him, smelling the sweet spirit energy radiating off of him. He was beginning to feel somewhat hungry.

"Ciego wants to meet with us." Dorian wanted to keep his answers short and to the point.

"I suppose we should feel lucky," he sighed, rancid black sludge beginning to ooze from the corner of his mouth. "It's just as well, I suppose. I don't believe my meal will last me much longer."

"Already?" Dorian lifted an eyebrow. "You went through him rather fast."

"I couldn't help myself." Bordell smiled...well, if you could call it that. There wasn't much left of his teeth or his lips to really constitute a smile. "I'm a pig. Still, that and the poor fellow came down with something...probably the plague...or Yellow Fever."

"You like passing that stuff along, don't you?"

"Call it a gift. Let's go see what big brother wants then."

As they headed back of the stairs, Dorian couldn't shake the need to wash himself with vinegar and lye.

_(II)_

Orihime thanked her lucky stars that the house hadn't been damaged in the blast, or what she called a blast. It probably could have been much worse...but let's not go there.

There was no power, none for blocks if not miles. Orihime had been trying for the last hour to reach Yoruichi, anyone at this point, but made no progress. Grimmjow had spent all this time in the refrigerator, making sure nothing spoiled by eating it as quickly as possible.

"It must have knocked out the cell towers." She closed her phone, shoving it back into her pocket with a huff. "We may just have to walk over there," She thought aloud, going over in her head what that might entail. With a tightened expression she stepped back into her bedroom, tapping her chin with one finger, thinking. Unconsciously she began picking up the small nick-nacks that had fallen during the quake. There were more things about the house that had been toppled over, but she would get to that shortly. A few books were put back on their shelves, drawers were pushed back in, and the few things that fell from her bedside table were back in their places.

Orihime pondered the small box on the floor before picking it up. The edge of it was just peeking out from beneath the bed, otherwise she would have missed it. It was what Urahara had given her for her birthday, which she had yet to open. Her attention diverted, she sat on the edge of the bed, the box in both hands. She suddenly remembered how she'd put the card in the side table drawer, and reached for it, pulling the little handle and fishing around until she found the envelope. As what seemed to be a global custom, she read the card first.

_"Princess,_

_ You're so hard to buy for, I wasn't sure what you would want. Instead I got you something you could use, and I hope it helps. You deserve the best the world has to offer. Perhaps my gift will help you find it. Happy Birthday. Urahara"_

Orihime looked at the plain card with the plain message for a while, reading it a couple times more. She was suddenly troubled, unable to imagine what could have become of the shopkeeper. She missed him and, like Yoruichi, worried for his safety. With a sigh she put the card away, her gaze falling on the small box once again. With two fingers she slowly untied the bow, wrapping it around one finger as she pulled the lid away.

It was a small jade pendant, in it were a row of smoothly carved symbols. She only recognized a couple of them; in all they said the same thing. Luck. She took the trinket in both hands, pressing it against her chest, praying over it. For what? Well, what would you pray for in times like these? In any case, when her silent plea was finished she put it around her neck.

She stood up, looking over her room one last time for anything that might still be on the floor. She did indeed find something out of place, though it wasn't an object that had formerly belonged elsewhere. Wedged in the corner on the far side of the bed was a large mass of black seemingly folded in on itself. At first she wasn't sure what it was, then it gave a heavy sigh and she felt her heart prick.

"Ulquiorra?"

He flinched beneath his wings, pulling them tighter around him. She rounded the bed and knelt quietly in front of him. With a curious hand she reached out and touched him, feeling the slight give of the leathery flesh and its silky texture until his tail snapped against her fingers, forcing her to recoil.

"That's not very nice," she pouted. "Come on now, don't be like this."

There was noise from behind his wings that sounded like a huff, but it was muffled. With a determined half-scowl she reached for him again, the time for the clawed appendages that curled together to keep his wings in place. Before she even touched him, his tail whipped around her wrists and forced them over her head, surprisingly strong. His wings pried apart, only just so, and his striking green eyes feel on her.

"Why do you insist on this, Onna?" Ulquiorra almost sounded angry by the grating growl in his voice. "What do you want?"

"W-well, um," she was having trouble finding the words. "I noticed you were kind of hiding in here...are you okay?"

His expression softened slightly, his grip around her wrist coming undone. "I am...stuck, and...I did not want you to see me like this."

Orihime watched he looked away, his wings moving to close around him again. At first she found it kind of cute that he was feeling self-conscious, but that changed into pity when she realized it was really shame he was feeling, most likely for the first time.

Ulquiorra couldn't approve in any way how he was feeling. His body was pulsing with reiatsu in an almost painful way, and that wasn't including the hard wrenching in his heart whenever the woman looked at him. Why did she keep wanting to press the issue? Couldn't she just leave him be until he could figure out how to change back? And that particular set back was on the verge of driving him mad.

Still on her knees she pressed beneath the black canopy of his wings and fought the urge to giggle at the face he made. His eyes widened, his brows lifted, and he shied back seeming to forget that the wall was behind him. His childlike behavior was endearing.

"Ulquiorra," she started, now just an inch or two away from being in his lap. "There's no need to hide. At least...not in my house."

"You're very kind." he looked away again. "But I'm sure I am not pleasant for you to see."

"Says who?"

He was about to answer when he realized the logic in her question. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Then, "But...don't I scare you?"

"No. You don't." she shook her head, her thoughts ripping back to that night. In a gesture of good faith, she put her hand to his cheek, receiving another priceless look from him.

His bright green eyes fixed on her hand as it moved over him. Her first two fingers traced the black markings on his face, twined in his hair, and then followed the solid length of his horns. They back down his nose, feeling the hard tendons in his neck, and down his chest now darkened with black fur.

The hair on his body was soft and thick, much like it was on his head. His skin was soft too, but felt like it had grown a little thicker as she gave him a light pinch. He seemed too focused on her to notice if it hurt, which she could imagine it didn't. She took one of his large hands in both of hers, splaying the fingers so she could have a close look. She could tell that he wanted to pull away, feeling a slight pull from his end. His hands were fuzzy and soft, with roughened callouses on the palms, and the claws were deadly sharp, but that went without saying, didn't it? Taking another chance, Orihime put his palm to her face, holding it there and smiling to show she was okay. She thought his jaw was going to drop out of his skull.

"See, it's okay."

Ulquiorra's amazement was evident on his face. His expression shifted slightly into curiosity as he flexed his fingers, feeling her hair and the curl of her ear between them. The tips of his claws tapped at the back of her neck, making her bite her bottom lip against a laugh, drawing his attention predictably towards her mouth. He could feel his mouth starting to water. He needed...

Orihime didn't resist when she felt him pulling, this time with a little more earnest. She rose to her knees, her hands on his thighs. She could feel the tightly corded muscles twitching beneath her palms. His lips felt a little cold when they pressed against hers, making her tense for but a second. His clawed hand digging gently into her buttocks, however, made her squeal. He deposited her in his open lap, forcing her legs to settle on either side of him. She could feel a blush burn across her face.

Ulquiorra shivered as he forced his tongue passed her lips and into the heat. His curiosity was getting the better of him, pulling her against him like that. Something deep down wanted to know what she would feel like, her legs around him, her hands gripping at him. It was feeling...oh sweet Lord, if it felt this good, how would it feel if they...

With her thighs pried apart, her nightgown was riding up to her hips, but she tried to ignore it for a reason she never really understood. His arms circled around her and held her tight, almost vice-like and possessive. Claws pointed into her shoulder blades and thigh. With a shiver she felt his tail curling about her waist and his wings close, stealing them away from the harsh light and the world outside.

As good as it was feeling, Ulquiorra retained enough of his senses to know it would be best to stop. He was feeling the tell tale tightening in his loins, the red flag he was always looking out for when around her this way. Leaving her somewhat breathless he pulled back, his tail and his claws loosening, but his arms remained around her and his wings kept closed. He wasn't about to give all of this away to uncertainty and fear. He kept her close, feeling her chin against one shoulder.

"Ulquiorra?" she whispered.

"I am fine. I am...learning." he knew she would understand what he meant. "But..."

"But what?"

"You did not refuse me. Explain."

Orihime eased back, reaching up to push his wings apart so they could see one another. And then she smiled. "Just because you look different doesn't mean you've really changed."

"I...I suppose not." it was strange to him, but he was overwhelmed by the sensation of a great weight falling from his shoulders. Without his notice he steadily began to change, reverting back to his previous form.

"Maybe," Orihime began in wonder. "Maybe it was just stress. I mean...I think you changed because you were...worried about me," she cleared her throat, still blushing.

"But my worry over your opinion of me kept me from changing back."

"I guess. I don't really know."

Whatever the reason, Ulquiorra was glad to look like himself again. "So what do we do now?"

"I've been trying to reach Yoruichi, but I think the cell towers are down too. Our best choice would be to go see her ourselves."

"Yes. When?"

"Soon. Before dark; God only knows what's going to come out of that...thing."

"If anything. Is Grimmjow coming with us?"

"I would say no if I didn't think he'd trash my house while we were away. Who knows, maybe he'll be helpful."

"A veritable band-aid on a broken leg."

Orihime smirked. "Was that a joke?"

"No. Why, was it funny?"

Orihime could only laugh, answering his question with a wide smile.

_(–)_

It had only been a short time since Yoruichi was able to undo the seals on Starrk and Halibel, a few days perhaps, but since then they had been working hard to reestablish their powers, at least to a degree to where they would no longer be dead weight.

In the secret training area beneath the shop, Tia and Coyote worked for hours at a time to get their powers up and running. It seemed to come almost too easily for Halibel, who was able to reconstitute her Zanpakuto in a seemingly short amount of time, though the blade looked a little different now. It still wasn't a full blade, an emptiness in its center, it was more compact, less broad, and a little longer. It was a much more elegant looking weapon. And it wasn't long after that she was able to produce a somewhat viable Cero.

Unfortunately, Starrk didn't make as much progress. His laziness tended to get the better of him, demanding he nap frequently. All he had managed thus far were tiny flickers of light trying like the little engine that could to be mighty Cero. At best they made dents in their target, and merely left a sharp pinching sensation on human flesh. But he could produce them in large groups, which was perhaps their only redeeming feature. He could sense slight disappointment from Halibel in that he had yet to regain his sword. Perhaps it was forcing her to wonder why he was ever Primera Espada.

"Get up, Coyote," she gave him a soft kick to the ankle. "You've barely been at it an hour."

"I know," he groaned. "I just don't have it in me today."

"You said that yesterday. Come on,"

"Fine, fine." he opened his eyes and forced himself to sit up. He waved his hand and a small cero squirmed into existence only to fizzle out of it just as quickly. "There, I tried. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He laid back down and put his arm over his eyes to shield the artificial light in Urahara's basement.

"No, Starrk," Halibel sighed. "I won't excuse you. Now, get your lazy ass up."

Starrk angled his arm so he could glare at the woman with one eye. "Why should I? Soul Society had enough muscle to kill us, so they should have enough muscle to handle whatever crisis they have this time. We don't really need to contribute. Though, it's not like I can."

"What does that mean?" Halibel asked.

Starrk sat all the way up and turned his full attention to Halibel."Have you noticed anything since I came back, Tia? The silence? The calm? The lack of my junk being manhandled by a prepubescent twerp?" Before Halibel could answer, he did for her. "Lilynette is gone. She _was_ my powers. I didn't make a zanpakuto like other Arrancar. I made her, and since she isn't here, I can't do jack. Yeah, maybe Urahara could find a way to bring her back too, but one, he's gone, and two, that jewel is gone. Any hope of restoring my powers is gone with it." He stood all the way up and started pacing. "You, you at least have your powers inherent to your own being. Me? I need a preschooler to even fire a damn cero."

"So, you're useless?" Halibel asked.

"More or less."

"Then maybe I should stop wasting my time with you." She swung her zanpakuto and just missed her target as Starrk jumped to the side. She pointed the blade at him and fired as powerful a cero as she could muster. He dodged, but the cero scorched the sleeve of his shirt.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You forget, Starrk. My aspect of death is sacrifice. I care for you, but I have the feeling that perhaps killing you will help me regain my power. Your sacrifice will be my rebirth."

"Are you crazy?" he yelled, dodging another sword strike. "Why do you want to kill me?"

"What do you care?" Halibel screamed. "You said yourself you were useless! Like you said: without Lilynette, you are nothing." She fired another cero, which Starrk deflected with a barrage of his own. He ducked behind a rock and watched as half of it exploded as Halibel struck it. By the time she rounded the boulder, he was gone.

"Running, Starrk? You're not the running type. Your the type to lie down, take a nap and hope all your problems go away. How you ever became Primera Espada is beyond me."

From his hiding spot, Starrk spied Halibel firing cero after cero in the direction she believed him to be hiding. He didn't know what was going on. Halibel was never the overly violent type. She was more calm and reserved than this. But she was right. He wasn't a runner. They had changed, both of them. Whether it be freedom from Aizen or a second chance at life, they had changed, Halibel, seemingly, for the worse.

A thought slipped its way into his mind. His aspect of death was loneliness. Maybe his power stemmed from that. Maybe he had to kill Halibel, once again become the lone wolf to regain his strength. But that didn't make sense. He was never alone, since he had to rely on Lilynette; his strength came from unity, not solitude as he was led to believe. Now that he considered it, Lilynette had originally come from him to begin with, she had been a part of his soul that he had crafted into another being; with his soul now one again, she was still there. It made perfect sense. When he died, Lilynette's spirit was one with his own, and when Urahara resurrected him, the spirit that ceased over Karakura had been revived; in a sense, Coyote Starrk hadn't been resurrected as much as Los Lobos had. He knew what had to happen.

Starrk jumped from his hiding spot and ran across the rough ground. Halibel spotted him almost instantly and fired a barrage of cero towards him. He stopped running and let the energy rain down around him. Halibel fired once more, but Starrk made no attempt to dodge. He stood his ground, and prayed he could do what he was thinking to.

The cero met its target and drove Starrk back into a large boulder. The impact kicked a tremendous amount of dust into the air. Halibel lowered her zanpakuto and strode towards the cloud. Had she really killed him? Her cero were weak, and he was the Primera, but in these frail mortal bodies, was a single underpowered cero enough to kill? She stopped walking when she saw Starrk lying on the ground, face down. She trained her eyes on him long enough to realize that he wasn't breathing. She had killed him. Tia Halibel, formerly the Tercera Espada had slain the Primera.

A cero fired out of the dust cloud and knocked Halibel's zanpakuto from her hand. Her eyes widened in shock just as a second cero shot by her head. She could feel the heat of it on her ear. What had just happened? Starrk was dead, lying on the ground. And those cero were far stronger than anything he had mustered thus far. However, when the dust cleared, she received her answer.

Starrk stood, completely unaffected by her assault. He wore a variation on his old Espada uniform: white pants and a white coat that fell down around his ankles. It opened wide at the collar to reveal his hole set in his chest and the jaw of bone that comprised his mask fragment. In his hands he held, not a sword, but a pair of black guns ornately decorated with gold and silver. Halibel began to understand just what had happened. Starrk had used the force of her cero to push his spirit form out of the body Urahara had provided. A gigai, she believed he had called it. Outside of his artificial body, Starrk was able to tap into his full powers instantly.

Starrk stared down at his guns, shocked and surprised that his idea had worked. At the time, he figured it would either work, or he would die. He looked up and was even more surprised to see Halibel mere inches from his face.

"I knew you had it in you, Primera. You just needed a little motivation." she almost smirked.

"Well," he chuckled, "death and pain can be incredible motivators."

Halibel smiled and put her arms on his shoulders. "Pain, yes, but so can pleasure." She pulled him close and gently placed her lips against his. She snickered quietly to herself when she heard the guns fall to the ground and felt Starrk's arms snake around her waist. She pulled away and looked into Starrk's eyes, cold gray eyes that usually held disinterest and fatigue now seemed warm and full of light. She blushed, never one to talk about her feelings, but feeling it necessary.

"For years, I sacrificed everything for the sake of power: personal time, companionship, emotions I deemed useless, like hope and love. My heart had no room for hope. I knew that all things were fleeting, and would pass into and out of my life as dust sweeps through the air. All things would have to be sacrificed for the greater good. _Aizen's_ greater good, never my own. I sacrificed my own thoughts, my own opinion, for the sake of survival. But now, Coyote, now I can say something I've wanted to say since we were given this second chance. I think...I might be in love with you." as she spoke, more so confessed, it seemed she had trouble keeping her eyes on him.

Starrk seemed concerned, confused, and caught off guard. He never expected to hear those words come from Halibel, much less very many words at all. Yeah, they had sex back in Seiretei, but that was little more than desperation and lust, at least it seemed like that at the time; just two people that didn't want to die without knowing another's warmth He felt that they had done it because they needed to, not much so that they wanted to. There was only a little tenderness, a little affection. Not really love. But now, Starrk felt warmth coming from Tia's words. He felt sincerity where he never expected it.

"I hate long sappy speeches, Tia, but I'll say that I don't want to be lonely anymore. I want a companion, a friend, a lover. I think, maybe, you could be all three. I think I might love you, too."

Before they could continue with the lovey-dovey (although it still escapes me what doves have to do with it) there was a ripple of spirit energy that heralded Yoruichi's return.

"Hate to interrupt," she sniffed. "I'm afraid we've got a whole new nest of trouble."

"What's happened?" Halibel stepped away from Starrk.

"Well, turns out...why are there two of you?" Yoruichi pointed a finger at the still gigai on the ground, looking at it the one supposed to be in it.

"We'll get to that. Please continue." Starrk insisted.

Yoruichi shook her head as if to straighten her thoughts. "For starters, whatever that gate is, it's nothing good. It's giving off a mother load of negative reiatsu. Secondly, I've heard through the grape vine that there are two more. No one knows where they go, so you can imagine how most people are feeling about."

"Like all mortals feel about these supernatural happenings." Tia said. "Terrified."

"And we all know how well a multitude of people scared to death works out." Yoruichi crossed her arms. "Lord only knows what's going to come out of those gateways."

"What should we do then?"

"Words already gone out from Soul Society, all of the deputies are on stand-by, and Isshin has got his hakama in a twist. I would say we should stay, you know, defend the fort, but I just don't think we could really handle a major incident."

"Even with the help of the Vizard?" Starrk asked.

"They're already on this. I spoke with Hacchi on my way back. I think we need to touch base with Soul Society. What do you think?"

"What other options do we have?" Halibel wondered aloud. "Stay here and wait for something to happen? Not the best strategy."

"I suppose...strength in numbers would be our best bet. And if it's those Arrancar that sent that giant into Seireitei, it might be best for Halibel and I to be involved." Starrk added his piece. "Maybe even get Ulquiorra if we can."

"That would make sense," Yoruichi nodded, but hesitantly. "Like you said, what else can we do? Very well," she nodded again, more certain. "I'll be back in a bit." and then she was gone again.

After a moment, once they were sure they were alone, the two Arrancar looked at each other.

"Is the mood dead?" Starrk asked flatly.

"Yes."

"Crap. Oh well, I guess its back to work?"

"Back to work."

_(III)_

Wrath ignored the stares from the Shinigami as she made her way back to Fourth Squad barracks, covered head to toe in blood, black oil, and the residue of her own reiatsu, the disembodied head of the golem clutched in one hand. Largo was still waiting, though no longer on the roof, and was so glad to see her as he scrambled down the steps and grabbed her about the waist. Not wanting to sully him she merely touched his shoulder, nodding as a way of saying she was all right.

"What's that?" he pointed to her other hand.

She lifted her trophy and almost laughed as he cringed at it.

"Eww." and he stuck out his tongue to emphasize his disgust. "You're gross sometimes, you know that?"

She nodded again, grinning. She started again, tugging him along. After stepping inside, it wasn't long before Hanataro seemed to appear out of nowhere, looking absolutely beside himself and in fear for his life.

"There you are!" he huffed, his face reddened like he'd been running about for quite a while. "I heard you disappeared and I thought Unohana-taichou would have my head! I know she's not like that, but-,"

Before he could finish his rant Wrath patted the top of his head, stilling his jitters. The redness in his face faded slightly. He caught his breath, feeling ten times better then mere seconds ago. Now he was able to see the state his charge was in.

"What happened to you?" when he saw the remains she was carrying he flinched, once again thankful for his intestinal discipline. "Are you hurt?" he forced himself to ask.

She only shook her head.

"Well...I'm glad." he nodded after his thoughts appeared to right themselves. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Wrath found a bath very welcome to her fatigued body. High emotions and adrenaline tended to leave her drained it seemed; it wasn't like that before her mask was broken. The water ran as hot as it could be and it was almost not enough to fully soothe her. She watched curiously as the grime and filth swirled its way down the drain, disappearing. She ran her claws through her rough hair, just enough to part the knots before stepping out. She shook the water off, like a dog after a rain before finding the clean clothing that had been set out for her. Like before she ripped off the sleeves and cinched the legs of the hakama closed. When she came back into her room, her mood flashed from docile to defensive.

Captain Unohana, and another captain who was much shorter and rather angry looking, stood there by the door. Wrath knew Unohana, knew she'd taken care of Largo, but she most certainly didn't appreciate the way the smaller woman glared at her. Someone so small should not tempt one who is so much larger. She could feel brow tighten and her fingers curling, almost itching to use her claws.

"Yamamoto-sotaichou would like to speak with you." Unohana said gently.

Wrath's eyes narrowed on the Shinigami, then she looked down at Largo who was sitting on the bed.

"Is something wrong?" the little Arrancar looked worried as he put his feet to the floor, walking to Wrath's side and taking her hand, only able to put his hand around one finger.

"No, no," Unohana shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. Yamamoto-sotaichou just has a few questions is all."

"Okay." he reluctantly nodded. "Let's go."

"You will stay." Soifon glared at Largo, making the little boy recoil slightly.

"With all due respect, Soifon-taichou," Unohana stepped in, noticing that Wrath was perhaps two-seconds away from becoming violent. "Without Largo she cannot speak. He needs to come with us."

Soifon grimaced, not liking to be corrected, but eventually apologized. With that said and done they left for the meeting.

Wrath didn't like how the room was full of Shinigami, powerful one's at that. She had seen most of them before, some she had not. There were the two that came to her forest, the one in the pink coat, the quiet, dark haired man that seemed to never change his expression, and that horrible...person with the painted face that never stopped showing his teeth. There were seven of them, and she knew none of them by name with only a few exceptions. All of them had a red band on one arm. Her whole body tensed at the feeling of their looming spirit energy, and she felt surrounded with the need to run away. Normally she wasn't the one to run, but she wasn't stupid. Simple, yes, stupid, certainly not. If she did run it would only be a short endeavor.

She felt the strongest energy coming from the old man with the long white beard. It appeared that he didn't open his eyes, and perhaps that was what disturbed her most. Why? Who knows. She felt a little confidence as Unohana continued to stand beside her and Largo, even after the smaller Shinigami took her place beside the others and next to the one who had broken her mask. Still, even that small mote of comfort didn't stop small droplets of sweat from forming on he back of her neck. In minutes her skin would take on a pinkish tinge, her aura wanting to push through as a defensive reflex.

"Captain Zaraki told me about the incident in the Rukongai," Yamamoto began rather suddenly. "Explain yourself."

Wrath didn't like his tone, but considering the circumstances, she didn't have room to object. After a short moment she knelt down beside Largo and began signing to him with hand gestures she knew he would understand. Largo watched her carefully until she finished, then he turned to Yamamoto to deliver her reply.

"She sensed the presence of other Arrancar, bad ones. She says she can't always control herself when she's mad, and they made her pretty upset. She didn't mean to hurt anyone other than them."

Yamamoto hummed gruffly beneath his beard. "Why did you come back?"

Another array of gestures, one in particular where she crossed her wrists in front of her, and he began again. "She asked if she's your prisoner."

"Not in so many words." he replied confidently. "She is in our custody, yes, just like the other Arrancar for the time being."

More hand gestures. "Don't you usually kill Arrancar?" he looked back. "Why are you keeping her here? Do you want to use her too?"

For a brief second he couldn't answer. Perhaps she had been right to ask that question. "For safety's sake. It's our top priority."

"Her's or yours?"

"Everyone's safety is our highest concern." he affirmed. "And who has used you?"

Largo watched as Wrath gestured her thumb across her throat with a fierce grimace, that meaning only one thing.

"Aizen."

"I see." Yamamoto nodded slowly. "Captain Unohana,"

"Yes, sir?"

"What was the nature of the reports you received concerning the Arrancar being chaperoned around Seireitei?"

"All of them were considerably positive, sir." she seemed happy to say. "With the exception of a small incident her behavior was documented as rather stable and cooperative."

"Incident?" he lifted one big, bushy eyebrow.

"Yes, sir; Ukitake-taichou approached the Arrancar and for a very brief moment she became hostile, but she didn't harm him."

"Why?"

Wrath knew he was speaking to her and answered promptly with a few short hand signs.

"He tried to touch her without permission." Largo explained for her. "She doesn't like men very much."

"So I've heard. With that being said, it appears that two captains are speaking in your favor. What about the other Arrancar?"

"It has yet to come about that they should meet, sir. I was hoping to do that soon, but considering the recent unrest,"

"Indeed." the entirety of the situation was still heavy on his mind. He had dispatched two captains already with a sizable force of Shinigami to investigate the rumors of additional gate sightings elsewhere in spirit world, not to mention his open notice to all of the deputies in the mortal realm. Still, there would be time to worry over that, now he needed to focus on the matter at hand. "Is there a chance for you to harm anyone else within Seireitei?"

There was a pause, "She says if you don't hurt us, she won't hurt you."

"How can we trust you?"

Everyone watched as she gestured a 'x' over her heart before largo turned. "She wants to know how she's supposed to trust _you_. She says words are cheap." he was about to say more when Wrath tugged his sleeve, wanting to say something else. "She wants you to give her claws back."

Yamamoto was quiet, thinking. To agree would be a gesture of good faith, something that would certainly be helpful if the Arrancar was willing, but it would also put them in a delicate position. If the Arrancar chose to resist, or lost control of her temper, they would be on the business end of it. Well, life was full of tough decisions...

"Very well, but only on the condition that you will remain within the walls and offer your assistance should we ask of it."

The expression on Wrath's face was one of contemplation. Largo whispered to her, saying the other Arrancar were given the same offer, and that it wasn't all that bad. When she had made her decision she signed to him.

"She'll agree if you promise to let us go once the gates have been closed."

After a moment he answered. "Very well. It's agreed. Captain, Unohana, see to it that Arrancar have their weapons returned."

"Yes, sir." she bowed.

"You are dismissed. The rest of stay as there are more things we need to discuss regarding today's incident."

_(–)_

Ranza hadn't seen Nel all day, not since she left his room this morning so suddenly. He found himself anxious, fidgety, and somewhat uneasy in his stomach. He paced his room for several hours before fully dressing himself and going outside, thinking maybe the fresh air would help. That nasty quake earlier today did nothing to settle his nerves. He didn't know where Nel was, so he could only think the worse. What if she'd been hurt? Why hadn't someone come to tell him? No, no, he told himself; she was fine. He was just worrying too much for his own good.

"Chill out." Gusano shrugged from his leg. "Unless you gave her the clap I'm sure she'll come back."

"You're disgusting. The only bug I have is you." Ranza griped, sitting heavily on the steps of the porch. "I'd sooner flush you down the toilet then let you...do things to her."

"Give me some credit, would ya? You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt what you've got with the lady; sheesh, you think you know a guy!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he rolled his eyes a little, unable to much stand the parasite's melodrama. "You forgive me?"

"Get me a date with a hot babe and I will."

"Tell me you're kidding? Maybe you should go check the local trash dump, bet you could find a grub or something that'll make out with you."

"Ha-ha, so funny. You're a bastard. You know what I need? I need a rockin' hot body to make all the ladies come screaming,"

"More like _run_ screaming."

"There you are again with that bastard thing," his leg jerked. "But I'm being serious."

"You think?" Ranza couldn't force himself to imagine the worm as a more human looking being. It was just too much to wrap his head around. All he could come up with was a man's body with a serpentine head, and that something he didn't want to dwell on.

"Oh yeah, I can see at all now, women everywhere and all of them want..._me_." the worm sighed as if in a dream. "That's heaven."

Ranza mentally disagreed. He knew what heaven was, but unfortunately his was incomplete at the moment.

When Neliel finally did reappear some time that afternoon, Ranza was nearly asleep on the porch, the sunlight bearing down on him actually comforting him into a nap. His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name and he jumped to his feet, mindful of his false leg. He put his arms around Nel and just held her.

"I missed you." he said, his cheek pressed against her shoulder. "Where have you been?"

"Everywhere it seems." she pushed a stray strand of hair from her face as she took a small step back. "Did you hear what happened?"

"Bits and pieces. What's all this about a gateway?"

"Some sort of portal opened up in the middle of Rukongai. Several Arrancar came out of it and started slaughtering villagers."

"No shit? That's it?"

"Eleventh Squad was able to fend them off, but the opening is still there. Everyone's guess is that it leads to Hueco Mundo."

"Sounds about right." he nodded. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried."

"What about? I can take care of myself."

"No, not that. I was...I thought you wouldn't come back...because of what I said." and the guilt was starting to show, shadowing his face.

"Ranza, listen," she took a breath. "It's done and in the past. If I can leave it be, so can you."

"I know but,"

"No buts,"

"But I like butts," Gusano sneaked in.

"All joking aside," she laughed a little. "It's okay. Anyway, I have something for you." and she presented him with his saber.

"I finally get my third leg back, huh? Great, I was feeling pretty naked without you...it."

Nel giggled at the slip.

"So...all's forgiven?"

"Yes, it's fine."

"Ranza!"

Both of the Arrancar turned to see Largo with his arms wide open and running towards them. He latched tightly to Ranza as if he hadn't seen him in forever.

"Hey, squirt, where've you been?"

He started to describe the events of his day as young children often do, with grand gestures and over exaggerated adjectives. It wasn't until he finished his story that he noticed who was following behind him.

"Nice to see you, Mama-san. Hope he hasn't been too much trouble."

"Good afternoon." she bowed her head slightly. "And heaven's no. Largo has been a big help today." and she pat the little boy's shoulder with a smile of approval.

Ranza then saw Wrath standing there, towering at least a foot over him. She glared at him with firm amber eyes, but it was a look without her usual malice. He also noticed she had her clawed gauntlets back on her hands, making him a little uneasy. He felt his chest tighten slightly when she stepped forward, closer to him, and appeared to take a quick sniff. Surprising to everyone, she did the same to Nel. After a moment Wrath gave them a little smirk and a nod.

"What was that all about?" Ranza had to ask, looking down at Largo as he would most likely have the answer.

"Maybe she thinks you're a good couple. I dunno." he shrugged his shoulders.

"What does she care?" he wondered aloud as he turned. Wrath was now at the top of the stairs, just shy of going inside the barracks. She had heard the question and gestured for him to follow if he wanted to know the answer.

"Could you excuse us?" Ranza politely removed himself and Nel from Unohana, his curiosity getting the best of him. For some reason he needed to know what Wrath had to say. When Largo started after them, Wrath turned again and gestured for him to stay, encouraging him silently that she could handle it.

"It's all right," Unohana assured him. "They must have something important to discuss. Why don't you come with me? You and I could have dinner with Sajin."

"Who?"

"The very tall man with the fuzzy face." she smiled as she took his hand.

"Oh, him, okay. Do you think I can call him Papi instead?"

"I don't see why not, but maybe you should ask him first." she didn't know what the word meant, but it didn't sound very offensive, so she gave it little more thought. The two of them hurried inside, Unohana having heard a faint peal of thunder and fearing rain.

Ranza found it very curious that Wrath didn't want Largo to come along. From what he heard that was the only way the Arrancar could speak; how on earth would she be able to tell them anything? He didn't understand sign language! And he was quite sure Neliel didn't either.

Inside Wrath's cell she offered them to sit on the bed with a vagrant wave of her hand. The remains of the golem had been sitting on the windowsill, which she grabbed as she sat on the floor. She removed the greaves from her hands and began systematically pulling the entire thing apart as if out of nothing more than curiosity.

"So," Ranza started, the air feeling too heavy to stay quiet.

Wrath smirked. "I am glad you are willing to listen." her first words were slow, calculated, testing. She had never spoken before, so you can imagine her care in doing so.

Both Shinigami looked shocked. They had each experienced what Wrath used to be; this had turned everything they knew on its head. As if it wasn't already there.

"I am as surprised as you." she didn't look up at them as she ripped away the face plate, tossing it across the floor. "It was not until my mask was broken that I slowly realized...all of that snarling and growling in my head was my own voice." She noticed how Nel looked sideways at the golden fragment, her expression uneasy.

"You know that face?" she asked.

"Yes." Nel replied quickly. "So do you."

"I do. Do you think he always smiled so wide?" she lifted a clawed hand towards her mouth, the tips of her claws touching the edges of her lips.

Ranza cringed. That must've hurt.

"I do not know how he came to be a machine." Wrath shook her head. "But at least I was able to kill him."

"By the looks of it, you must have hated his guts." Ranza ran a hand through his hair, somewhat marveling at how she was taking the remains apart.

"I hate many things." Wrath admitted. "But not so much as him or..._that man_." she ground out the last through a tightened jaw. Her mind went back into a slide show of pictures. She remembered Nnoitra, remembered his wretched face as it bled. She remembered the curved points of his blade through her belly, pinning her to the forest floor while he laughed and...

"Yes, I hate him." she said finally.

"Do you remember us then?" Neliel chanced.

"Yes. Once I had hated you too." she lifted her head and looked at Nel. "But...I know you are with him so I will...find it in me to let that go."

"What's with that anyway?" Ranza furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. "What difference does that make."

"It will...take time for me to fully explain. Will you listen?"

They had nowhere else to be, so they nodded, choosing to stay.

"I have seven sons,"

"Wait, what? How...Arrancar can't...can they?"

"You think right," Wrath nodded. "We are the dead made to mimic the living, we can not rear offspring like they can. But by all rights, they are my sons. _That man_," she growled suddenly, "used parts of me to create seven Arrancar."

Ranza and Nel nodded at the same time, understanding.

"I only know one of them by name, the others by their face. You have seen one of them. The giant made from ice. He and his three brothers are mine."

It clicked in Ranza's head. That made a lot of sense, but there were still a few things that weren't entirely clear, so he continued to listen.

"Another is the Fraccion of my sister. He doesn't speak as his mask covers his entire face."

"Valia's Fraccion." Ranza said quietly, waiting for Wrath to continue.

"How is it that you can be related?" Neliel asked.

"_That man_ made the seven of us using the same technique."

"You remember," Ranza started to elaborate for her. "Aizen booted them out of Las Noches because he couldn't use them."

After Nel was able to recall what he was talking about, Wrath went on. "The other two were both once called Espada. Whatever that means."

This sent their heads reeling, thinking of anyone and everyone who could have been who she was speaking of.

"One of them was so tall...such big shoulders." she set the cluttered leftovers of the golden gears and nobs aside, seeming bored with them.

"That sounds like Yami." Ranza thought aloud.

"I did not know his name. You may be right."

"And the other?"

Wrath smiled again and looked at the floor. "Just after he was made, his father brought him to show me, telling me I should be grateful that he did not inherit my ugliness. He had been created using a similar method as I was, but by then _that man_ had acquired that pink-haired crazy...he had all the power he wanted without the overbearing will." she paused with a small sigh. "At the time I could not appreciate being a mother...I was not of the mind to understand it. But now I am, and though I do not fully comprehend the word, I am...happy to see you now."

She looked at Ranza, and the Arrancar prince thought he would suddenly drop dead.

Author's Note: I forced a lot of this, I know I'm terrible. For some odd reason, when I near the end of a fiction, the quality of my writing goes right down the toilet. I hope it doesn't suck all that bad. Anyway, um, new art up for this fic, now in COLOR! You can check it out at .com if you would like. My husband helped me write this one, maybe you can tell. Don't know when the next chapter will be out, but I am quite sure there are only a few chapters left. Hopefully I can pull it all together and get it on paper without sucking.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Eighteen**

"_Imagine all the sick in the hospitals...crammed all together rotting...such was the misery, and such a stench was pouring out as it comes from flesh decaying..." The Inferno : Canto XXIX , verses 46, 49-51_

Ranza could feel his heart threatening to burst, never mind the supposed comfort of Neliel's hand upon his shoulder. He refused to let his body begin shaking.

"That's just," he began uncertainly. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Why not?" Wrath tilted her head. "I mean...of course I did not carry you," it appeared she had lost the words to finish.

"It just," Ranza shook his head. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me?"

"What would it have changed? What would you have done?"

That was a good question as he found himself asking it in his head. What would he have done? Most likely nothing. In spite of this, everything felt so strange. He didn't know how to feel, what to do, what to really think.

"Do not let it bother you." Wrath shook her head slowly. "It is no big thing. I just felt the need to tell you."

He wanted to say he appreciated her consideration, but that would have been a lie.

"Why haven't you spoken up before?" Nel had noticed Ranza's silent need to change the subject.

"At first I did not realize I could. Otherwise there are just few I choose speak to. Most of the people I do not like." she faintly recalled the long hours of listening, watching people speak, and filing each little polaroid away in their place so she could recall and repeat them to form speech.

"Why is that, anyway?" Ranza found himself suddenly curious.

She looked away with a frown. "_That man_...saw to it that I would hate Shinigami, or anything that even _felt_ like them. He taught me to hate much."

"Did that suddenly change?" Ranza chanced.

"Oh no. But I can control it better now. It," she paused a moment, thinking back. It was a fuzzy, unfamiliar hell that she could only remember feeling. There was no passage of time, no day or night. "It was like waking from a dream...like being born all over again. All of a sudden...I was aware of myself, not just the anger. I could choose...and I chose to think about it. A lot of things do not make sense to me right now, but I feel I am much better this way."

"That's all well and good," he started again, "But I'm beginning to think you might have been more use to us as a maniac." he flinched at the familiar shimmer in her amber eyes, the one that bordered in pissed.

"I can not expect you to understand." her voice was rough, growling. "I am not a _tool_. Not that I do not care about what is going on here. My brother has been here."

"You can tell?" Ranza lifted one brow.

"Yes. I was the first, so..._he_ had to use me as a building block for many of the others. I can sense them when they are near by."

"You couldn't have mentioned this earlier?"

"No one asked. Must have thought I was too stupid to understand." she was beginning to sound pretty bitter. If Ranza wasn't careful... "But, yes, one of them has been in and out of this city very often. I have found his scent on many of the Shinigami. In fact," she turned her head, having seen the flash of lightning. "There he is."

Nel and Ranza both jumped, going to the window to see nothing more than a bleak gray sky threatening to spill over with rain.

"Where?" Nel was looking as hard as she could, but saw nothing.

"He is there, somewhere. He can move so fast."

"You said he's come in contact with some of the Soul Reapers?" Ranza stepped away from the window and looked at her curiously.

Wrath wrinkled her brow as if she didn't understand.

Ranza thought and then it clicked. She must not have recognized the other name. "Shinigami."

"Yes. Many women."

Nel and Ranza exchanged glances, apparently thinking along the same wavelength. Nel suddenly excused herself and left the room, hurrying down the hall.

"Why hasn't anyone noticed him before?"

"He does not always wear the same face. Especially when he is trying to hide." she said, then lifted her head. "Ranza," she began as if to test his name. "I...I do not expect you to call me mother...much less accept me that way." now that they were alone, she wanted to get the words out while there was an opportunity. "But, I would like, some day, for you to call me friend."

Ranza could feel a heaviness fall on him. He really didn't like being put on the spot like this. It was still too new, too weird. Still, the only thing he could think to say was what he thought was true to his feelings.

"Why do you care? I mean...this is, as far as I remember, the first time we're really met... What's the big deal?"

"Really," she lowered her head, looking almost hurt. "You are my only son that has not tried to or was created to kill me."

Ranza tightened his brow, a shadow darkening his face.

"All of my other sons...they were to make sure I never got out of hand. The four in particular. I guess _he _thought if I could not be handled...then I could be killed. Still...you are the only one who has not been cruel to me...so I may learn to like you."

Somehow he felt a little privileged, but still very weird. Before he could respond Nel had returned with Rukia Kuchiki close behind her. The dark haired Soul Reaper looked terribly confused, apparently unable to understand what she was doing here.

Wrath had a feeling as to why Nel brought her and stood up. The poor girl looked a little...okay, _very_ frightened. The top of her head almost reached Wrath's belly button. I would be considerably uneasy myself. Wrath bent down, looked Rukia in the eyes, and then took a small sniff. She immediately shied away, rubbing her nose.

"Oh yes," she nodded. "He has touched her."

Rukia now looked terrified. "W-what is she,"

"I think we've just found the answer to your problem." Ranza crossed his arms. "So where is he?"

"Somewhere within the walls." was all Wrath could come up with. "He is moving...until he stills I cannot find him."

"Maybe we should try to draw him out?" Neliel suggested. "What could get him to reveal himself?"

"Women." Wrath answered. "_That man_ had called him Lust. So I would guess he wants women."

"There have been others," Rukia spoke up. "Several other girls have confided the same thing to me."

"What, exactly?" Ranza wanted to more details.

"They've been," she blushed. "Sleeping with men and then...their partners deny it ever happening."

"How many?"

"At least four...maybe more."

"Knowing him, it has to be more." Ranza sniffed. "It's gotta be."

Rukia went white, unable to say a word if she had intended to.

"We need to find him soon." Nel suddenly looked determined, if not the slightest bit miffed. Perhaps she had a silent peeve against those who preyed on women?

"Where's he most likely to be hiding?" Everyone turned their head to look at the one who seemed to be in the know of all this, to find her near plastered to the window, a fascinated, almost child-like look on her face. It was raining, and it looked like she was watching the water racing down across the glass as it bled together. She happened to glance over her hunk of a shoulder, noticed everyone looking at her, and managed to tear herself away from the wonder.

"He hides in plain sight." she said slowly, having to think about it. "But...I remember there was something about him...that never changed...something small. I have seen his face...but not when he was disguised. I guess...look for what should _not_ be there."

And no one seemed to understand.

_(–)_

Komamura tried to focus on one of two things as he ate quietly; the pitter-patter of the rain steadily coming down outside, or Unohana's ever steady smile. He couldn't help but find it strange when Unohana had invited the little Arrancar to have dinner with them. Strange, but not entirely misunderstood. Komamura had noticed how maternally Unohana behaved around the boy. Perhaps that's all it was, a motherly affection to sate her own need for children. He would initial call it endearing, almost admirable, but at the bottom of it all he found it unusual. The boy was an Arrancar...he wasn't one of them.

"Sajin, is everything all right?"

He pulled himself from his introspection and his ears perked. "Hmm?"

"You're awfully quiet."

"Oh, no, I'm fine." he nodded with a smirk. "Just thinking. A lot of things on my mind."

"Care to talk about it?" she offered.

"Perhaps later."

"Is it good, papi?" Largo asked, a few grains of rice stuck around his mouth.

His ears flattened and he tried to smile. The Arrancar had been calling him that since he arrived at Unohana's cottage that evening. He didn't know what it meant.

"Largo was kind enough to help me prepare dinner, Sajin." she brushed back his mussed hair, seeming very proud of him.

"That was very nice of him." he tried to show his gratitude, as difficult as it was.

Largo suddenly picked up his bowl and walked around the table. "Can I sit by you?"

Sajin looked at Largo and then slid his eyes to Unohana, who could only smile and try not to giggle. Eventually she did look up at him, still grinning, as if encouraging him to answer.

"Y-yes, you may," he grunted, scooting a little to the side. Sajin couldn't think of a time when he'd seen a child so happy. It was a little odd, but he forced himself to tolerate it when he saw how Retsu smiled so warmly at him.

The evening went as many did, with conversation pertaining to the day's events and the occasional story that stirred up a giggle or two. The highlight had to be Largo's description of all the people he'd seen around Soul Society.

"Yeah, I saw this guy-at least I'm pretty sure it was a guy-he had these white doo-dads in his hair and he had a look on his face like there was something stuck up his butt that he couldn't get out without something sharp."

Sajin spit up his tea and started laughing, teeth showing and everything. Retsu politely covered her mouth, her face reddening as she chuckled behind it.

Komamura suddenly stilled when he felt something lean against him. With both arms uplifted he looked to see the Arrancar lying along his side, his arms appearing to be struggling to get around him.

Largo looked up at him. "You've got a lot of fluff under here."

Sajin looked at Retsu as if to beg for help, his golden eyes wide. She didn't say a word and watched, probably curious as to what he would do.

"You're warm," Largo yawned. It was a good thing he had finished his meal, because it would have been a shame for it to go cold due to his inability to ignore a prime opportunity for a nap. Komamura dropped his arms slowly and then righted himself so he was completely facing the table. Then he picked up his bowl and chopsticks to finish his meal.

"Does he-,"

"Yes." Retsu replied quickly.

"Is he-,"

"No."

"Are you-,"

"Of course. I am a woman after all." she smirked as she sipped her tea. "I have a bed for him in the next room. I doubt he'll wake."

He most certainly believed her, especially after the Arrancar began to snore.

"I think he likes you." she sighed.

"Strange." he grunted.

"He's only a child, what can you expect? He probably sees you as the big softy I know you are."

"Hmph."

"Come now, Sajin, you're not all fangs and claws like you try to make yourself out to be."

"I do not. But I am not weak." he protested softly.

"Not weak. Just cuddly."

His ears flattened along with his expression. He was clearly unamused. "You're making fun of me."

"But you _are_," she insisted happily. "I adore how plush your fur is. Sajin?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you feel...perhaps having children some day?"

His ears drooped lower. "Well...I-uh...I'm not entirely...sure if I could...with you...or anyone. I'm not exactly..."

Retsu's cheeks reddened a moment later. "Would you object to trying?"

His ears then pricked to full attention. He couldn't bring himself to answer, at least not right that moment. She appeared almost hurt, which was a very strange look for her, and she quietly gathered the soiled dishes as she kept up with her usual smile.

"Retsu," he attempted to stand up, having forgotten about his new attachment. With a defeated shrug he pried the boys tiny arms from around him and gathered him up in his arms. And she had been right, he didn't so much as stir from the motions, and remained fast asleep. Sajin managed to find the futon that had been rolled out for him, laying him gently down and pulling the blanket over him. Afterwards he tip-toed back into the main room, Unohana returning from the kitchen as he entered.

"I'm very grateful you came tonight, Sajin." she nodded to him, beginning to put out the lamps that were no longer needed. It was becoming late and it almost time for bed.

"You want me to leave?" he asked with a forlorn tone.

"No, but I'm sure you will have much to do come morning. Wouldn't want you to stay up late on my account."

Sajin felt a twist in his heart. She was unhappy, he could tell now. He could even smell it on her.

"Was it something I said?" no point in being subtle, so he wouldn't be.

"Don't be silly," she laughed quietly, not looking at him directly as she pushed by to put out another lamp. "I'm fine, it's just been a long day. Perhaps its the rain getting me down. You could use my umbrella if you would like."

His brow furrowed. "I don't want to go."

Retsu felt her heart melt when she looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. As cute as that may have been, she wasn't all that fond of how he stood between her and the last lantern still burning.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"For what?"

"...A lot of things. I'm sorry I am so awkward...especially with you. I just...I don't want to disappoint you." he searched blindly for and found her small hands and held them against his chest.

"Is that what this is all about?" she looked rather surprised. Komamura was a very straightforward, confident man. She never would have guessed something like this would weigh so heavily on him.

"I...I suppose it is." there was a tiny, sheepish grin threatening at the edges of his mouth. "But...I guess I wouldn't be so worried if I didn't...if I didn't care about you so much."

After a long moment of quiet, a moment that left him on the verge of an impatient coronary, she laughed.

"See, like I said, cuddly."

Komamura felt relief wash over him. He'd take the light teasing, he would be willing the deal with her outlandish desire to brush him, he would even tolerate the Arrancar if it made her happy. Anything she desired he would gladly give without a single thought as to the cost.

He touched his big hand to her cheek with all the care one would give to a precious heirloom. "You're so special to me, Retsu. I'd die for you."

She shook her head. "I've been through that once all ready. I fail to see how that is supposed to translate into devotion. Besides, your concerns are only natural. After all, I was a virgin when I married, and I felt the same way as you do. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"So...you wouldn't mind..."

"I don't believe so...but not tonight."

He shook his head. "Only when you're ready."

With what amends needed made, they shared a warm embrace and a kiss before retiring for the night.

_(–)_

Kurotsuchi returned to his lab eager to get back to work. For hours he'd been doing tests on the remains of the mechanical golem; he needed to know, even if it was the last thing he did, how on earth a spirit could animate it without any external power source. However, since he put the pile of tattered scrap on the table, hooked it up to every scanner and computer he could, there had been problems. Problems he couldn't solve, much less figure out where they were coming from. Fucking Windows 98.

Screens were blinking unnecessarily and programs were glitching or freezing up entirely. This behavior was unheard of in his machinery, damn unheard of! At first he wanted to blame it on the weather, the thunder becoming much more frequent now and loud enough for even him to notice. When that wasn't good enough he considered the miniscule amount of reiatsu residue coming from the remains. Perhaps that was it? No, he finally shook his head. Far too trivial a thing to confound his equipment. In the end he pushed his questions to the back of his mind to worry over later, and continued to work as best as he could. Although, he would admit, something just didn't feel quite right...if he could just put his finger on it.

Perhaps if he had, it would have save everyone a heap of trouble. Turns out the residue wasn't all that trivial. It was simply what was left of its prior inhabitant which had, only seconds ago, vacated the gilded shell. Where had he gone? Couldn't you venture a guess? Chances are you would be right. Quietly, slowly, like some unseen parasite, his spirit energy permeated everything that had a current running through it. It wouldn't be long before he would have his hands in everything. Nnoitra liked causing trouble, a lot of it, and now would be a prime opportunity to do so. But he would have to wait a while first. Just bide his time, which wouldn't be very long at all.

_(–)_

She didn't remember rain. When she had seen it fall outside of the window, she was astonished. Water falling from the sky, who would have thought? Just after sundown she managed to sneak out of the Quarantine Wing, making her way outside, and climbing onto the roof where she was now sitting, letting the chilly droplets fall over her. It made her skin feel cool when it was normally so hot.

She could feel herself smiling, faintly thinking back to Hueco Mundo and how dry and hot it was. It never rained there. Without her greaves she was able to let the water gather in her hands, watching the hundreds of tiny ripples and splashes before taking a sip of it. What a wonder, rain. She sat on the roof for hours, never mind the chill or the wet, how it matted her fur and hair or soaked her clothes. Never mind the dark or the flashes of lightning followed by a loud _bang_. After numberless years of nothing but scorching sun and cruel nights, something this different was worth staying out for.

"Wrath-san!"

She just heard the echo over the loud hiss of rainfall. Carefully she slid down from the crest of the roof, stopping at the edge as she looked over it. Down below, walking along the street with a dim lantern and an umbrella was the mousy Shinigami that had been her guide through the city.

"Wrath-san, where are you?" he called out, just before her stumbled over his own feet. He fell face first, the lantern going out and he being completely soaked. He laid there for a moment, grumbling over his own clumsiness. He pushed up onto his knees, reaching for the things he dropped. Before he could grab the lantern he felt a large hand curl carefully about his belt and haul him upward. Hanataro held stock still as he hung there, his heart in his throat even as he saw that the Arrancar was holding him.

"Th-there you are," he tried to sound relieved, though being suspended easily ten feet off the ground would make anyone uneasy. "I was sent to look for you."

"You have found me."

His brows arched but he didn't say anything, remaining still as she pulled him onto the roof, depositing him between her tree trunk thighs as if to shield him from the weather. When he tried to raise the umbrella she snatched it from him.

"You are already wet." and she set it down out of his reach, which was easy since her arms were easily twice the length of his.

"W-what are you doing out here, Wrath-san?"

She shook her head. "No. You do not call me that."

He shrank. "Okay...what do I call you then?"

She thought a moment. Many of the Arrancar had named themselves, it was their mark, their identity that, along with their appearance, set them apart from all the others. She had been called many things; beast, savage, _it_...none of them could really be considered a name. What would she call herself, now that she had the mind to?

"Hmm," the sound rumbled through her. "Fiera. Yes. You will call me that instead."

"V-very well." and he smiled as straight as he could considering he was border-line terrified and shivering from the cold.

"What are you called?" she asked.

"Shrimp, squirt, shorty." he laughed.

"Strange names."

"Oh no, no, no," he shook his head. "Not really. It's just...nicknames. A joke really."

"I do not understand."

"Jokes make people laugh." he elaborated.

"Ah yes. I know laughter. Still, what is your real name?"

"Hanataro Yamada."

"Hmm," she nodded, not too sure which she preferred to use to. Neither one seemed to fit as far as she could tell. "You are tiny and fragile,"

"Oh yes."

"Tiny...fragile...easily frightened. I could break you. But you are good at heart. I think I like you." She curled her body forward, keeping most of the rain off of him. Water dripped from her hair and onto his shoulders, but that was perhaps the most of it.

"W-well," he stammered. "That's good." he paled at the consideration of what it would be like if she didn't.

"I will call you Osito."

"Oh? W-what does that mean?"

"Little bear. Because you are my friend." and she gave him a toothy grin when he tilted his head back to look up.

"Ah, I see." he seemed rather happy to hear this. "Y-you are my friend too, then, Fiera-san."

"San? What is this word?"

"We use it when we talk of someone we respect."

Fiera tilted her head to the side, her expression curious. "Why would you respect _me_?"

Hanataro sighed. "I don't have many friends. I'm so clumsy and cowardly...but you don't seem to mind. I suppose anyone who can look beyond that is worth respecting."

She thought about his words for what felt like a long while, her expression seeming heavy. Hanataro began wondering is he had said something wrong. Then she put her massive hand atop his head, patting him gently. He took it as her gesture of touched approval and found comfort in it.

"So, why are you sitting out here?" he asked again.

"The rain. It feels good." she growled happily. "It is new to me."

Hanataro found that curious. How could someone call rain new? It was like calling sunlight new, or breathing. But, then again, life is relative.

Wrath was finding a flicker of maternity in her, deep down where her heart was said to be. It was a gentle warmth that was a very rare sensation for the Arrancar. She saw him as not a Shinigami, but almost a child. There was no danger, no fear, just a relationship between creatures, one much smaller than the other. It was a relationship she could understand.

The rain began to slow, dawn drawing close. It would perhaps be another hour before light would start to grow in the east. Just as the drops retreated to a drizzle, Fiera felt the small hairs on the back of her neck bristle. There was a ripple of spiritual energy coming from not too far away. She straightened, her eyes narrowing to look through the early morning mist.

"F-Fiera-san, what's wrong?"

Without a word she stood up, still trying to get a better look. Another ripple, and her expression flattened. She bared her fangs slowly. She reached inside her tattered yukata, revealing her greaves from between the folds and slid them onto her hands. Something was coming from the south.

"Wake others." she growled. "We will need them."

_(–)_

After pondering and creating a myriad of excuses and reasons, Ciego had given the Shinigami until dawn and then he gave the order.

With a small multitude of palace guards behind him, Bordell passed through Azar's gate and into the seemingly desolate Rukongai. He sniffed the air, taking it in slowly through the rotted remains of his nose. It was rich with spiritual energy, brimming with it to bursting. His fingers curled at his throat as he swallowed as if to taste it. He licked his teeth with his pocked and sore dotted tongue. His other bony, withered hand clutched his Zanpakuto, a heavy, nasty looking meat cleaver with uneven edges, rust covered and cruel looking. The palace guards, all serpent-faced and spear wielding, cloaked in white, waited patiently for him to lead them on. Which he did without delay. It was a slow, steady descent towards the walls of Seireitei in the dwindling darkness.

Not so dark that the south gate keeper didn't see them. In fact, how could anyone have missed them? They were right there, strolling on like they owned the place, like they wanted to be seen. It had been many a year since someone came to Seireitei so boldly. The keeper wasn't exactly sure what to do.

The keeper was a big man, Bordell was oh so happy to find. The Arrancar looked at him as a starving man would look at a roasting pig, mouth slightly agape and slavering. When the Shinigami tried to strike him, Bordell opened his mouth, catching the weapon in his teeth. He put a hand around the blade and pulled away, taking a chunk of it to chew on and swallow.

"Now, now," he gurgled. "Let's not be rude." and then he caved in the poor man's skull with his cleaver, lingering only a few moments to sate his craving for more spirit energy. When he was done he stepped to the wall, not the door, and put his decrepit hand against it. He made a delightful sound, pressing his cheek against the stone, an infectious sore on his face bursting, before giving it a sensuous lick. The taste was like sweet cream in his parched mouth. Bordell chanced to let the tip of his cleaver hit the wall, felt it bounce back, and nodded. He had to wait just a little longer, wait for the signal he was told he would receive.

On the other side of the wall, only a few seconds later, the entire twelfth district when up in flames, the research building flung to pieces by a blast so great it shook the earth. Bordell then grinned, and began to feed.

_(II)_

Orihime didn't like that her house was full of Arrancar, she was feeling uncomfortable, especially since most of them couldn't get along. She felt a little better with Yoruichi there, looking to her as a sort of mediator, but not by much. She was mindful to stay near Ulquiorra, and as far as possible from Grimmjow. Why him? Why not?

"Don't think for a minute that you lot can boss me around," Grimmjow frowned. "We're not in Las Noches anymore."

"That's not what this is about." Halibel reminded him.

"This is probably going to kill me, but," Yoruichi shook her head. "Would you be willing to lend us a hand?"

Grimmjow stroked the nub of his chin, thinking. "What's in it for me?"

"The feeling like you've done something for someone other than yourself?"

"Not gonna happen,"

"Can't blame a girl for trying." Yoruichi shrugged. "What do you want?"

"Just give me a piece, and leave me alone, and I'll be quiet." and he smirked like he always did.

"Is that all you ever think about?" Starrk couldn't help but ask.

"What else is there?" and it was a genuine curiosity for Grimmjow. What else was there? Sure, he was the aspect of destruction, but that didn't mean he didn't like the act of creation. I made a funny.

"You'll help or I'll see to it Kurosaki puts his foot in your ass so deep you choke on his shoe laces." Orihime ignored everyone's staring as she quickly lost her fierceness and continued. "So what's going on, Yoruichi?"

"I'm not too sure. I've just got a gut feeling it won't be long before _something_ starts coming out of those portals. The one closest to us is my biggest worry."

"What about the other two?"

"They're a long ways away from us, though that doesn't make me feel much better. My only idea is to hook up with Soul Society. We'll have better chances."

"As awkward as that is bound to be," Ulquiorra began, "she is right. But how could we expect their agreeing to let us work with them?"

"Anyone prayed lately?"

"We don't have a lot of time to waste talking this over." Halibel interjected. "If we are to ally ourselves with anyone, we need to do it now."

"Okay, okay, let me go change." Grimmjow then disappeared into the back hallway, the sound of rummaging coming from the linen closet. When he returned he had donned his old Espada uniform, his sword in its rightful place on his hip. Orihime looked at him and a shiver went up her back.

"Why are you wearing that? Have you forgotten where we're going?" Ulquiorra looked critically at him.

"I like it," Grimmjow argued. "It makes me look delicious."

Everyone in the room rolled their eyes and groaned at the same time, Yoruichi demanding they get a move on as they headed for the door.

Everyone could feel the heaviness in the air as they filed outside. It was like something was out of place...or that sinking feeling that something awful was about to happen. All the more reason, they thought, to leave as soon as possible. Which was most certainly a sound idea. It wasn't long after they crossed over that something occurred. Terrors and beasts of all sorts came vomiting out of the portal, wailing and scrambling after mortals that drew too close.

They crossed into the spirit world to find the shambles it was in. Yoruichi actually appeared terrified at the sight of the great hole that was now defacing the great wall around Seireitei. How could this be, she thought. Who..._what_ could be strong enough to do something like that? Equally unsettling was the great column of black smoke curling upward from the ruins of Twelfth Squad. Perhaps it was a trick of the wind, never mind there wasn't any, but it appeared to move of its own accord and with purpose. No, that couldn't be right.

"My 'oh shit' senses are tingling." surprisingly enough, Grimmjow wasn't all that excited about what he saw either.

Ulquiorra mentally shuddered at the spirit pressure in the air. It was heavy, almost throttling, and there was a stench to it akin to corpses rotting in the sun after a heavy rain. He grimaced at the odor, unable to stop himself.

"Come on, let's get down there." Yoruichi started in a swift dash, blinking out of sight with a flash step. Halibel and Starrk followed as quickly as they could, their Sonido not exactly up to par yet.

Orihime nodded, about to take off running when she felt a bony hand curl about her wrist.

"You should not go. It will be dangerous." Ulquiorra stated the obvious.

"I'm not just going to stand here." she protested, pulling slightly against his grip. "I'm a lot stronger now."

"You are still mortal."

"And you're not? You're fragile now, Ulquiorra, just as much as I am."

"I am still more able,"

"Are you?" Orihime lifted an eyebrow, questioning in all sincerity.

"Seriously, you two," Grimmjow growled. "You coming or what?"

Orihime knew they didn't have time for this, as if it wasn't apparent enough. "I'm ready."

"What about you, bat boy?"

It was a strange sensation, but Ulquiorra could feel flickers of anger inside of him. Onna could be so insensible, and he was beginning to hate it when she was right. He was little better than she in terms of combat. Hell, he didn't even have a weapon. What good would he be? And why on earth was she still willing to hurl herself into peril? It didn't make any sense.

_(–)_

It was utter bedlam.

Shinigami were scrambling to cover the breach in the wall, to keep more soldiers from coming in. Not that they were difficult to kill, but there were simply _so_ many. They were slowly spreading in mighty numbers throughout Seireitei, a white tide. Others converged on the ruins of Twelfth Squad's labs, still ablaze and crumbling in places. They tried to contain the fires and search for those trapped in the rubble. But it was certainly not an easy job. A hideous cackle split the air as the smoke thickened and turned black as night. It churned and swirled, taking a shape that only seemed to become larger and more sinister. Horns, six arms, a gaping hole in what some would consider its face, and a stretching wound of a smile. The reiatsu flux was enormous.

"Do away with me now, Shinigami!" Nnoitra's voice came. "Do away with me if you _can_!" With his new found form he began to slowly pollute the air with smoke, soon all of Seireitei was darkened with it.

Bordell more or less strolled through the Shinigami stronghold, in no fear or hurry. He had yet to encounter anyone that posed a genuine threat to him. Many of the Soul Reapers that assaulted him were quickly done away with, he left them for dead in his wake. There was blood on his cleaver and dripping down his front from his mouth. Some of his assailants would be found half eaten, the wounds already beginning to rot with the disease he passed on while others were doubled over with vomiting and fever.

He had easily eaten his way through the wall, barely sated by the wealth of energy the stone gave off. Once the opening was wide enough the palace guards simply spilled through and began carving through Soul Reapers, but that was of little concern to him. His only care was sustenance, he needed more, even if he had to devour the entire city full of souls. He was always hungry, always starved, had been since before the day he died.

Bordell's death had been slow and without any shred of dignity. He had crossed his overbearing mortal mother for the last time, spending the last three days of his life walled up behind a layer of brick in the basement, wailing until he finally expired from severe thirst, fatigue, and, most prevalent in his memory, starvation. When he became aware as an Arrancar, not much had changed. He was still hungry, and now riddled with all sorts of pests and vulgarity. But he was so powerful, powerful enough to frighten Aizen, though the bastard would never admit it. He could have easily been Primera Espada if not for him.

Bordell found himself coming back to the here and now when his yellowed eyes picked out two Shinigami who stood before him, neither advancing or retreating. It was kind of annoying, not to mention the one on the left looked so incredibly fruity. That much color should never be concentrated in one place. Bordell was never a big fan of colors, most certainly not bright ones.

"This is where you stop, pal," Ikkaku bounced his Zanpakuto across his shoulders.

"Sweet gods, he's so ugly," Yumichika cringed, covering his mouth.

Bordell couldn't help but laugh, wheezing. "Shut up, you preening peacock. You think you're so beautiful...I can smell your soul...and it is _hideous_."

Yumichika gasped, petrified. "Did you hear him, Ikkaku? He called me ugly!" poor man looked like he was about to start balling his eyes out.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say, man," Ikkaku shook his head. "I think it best if you apologized."

Bordell raised a withered eyebrow. "And I suppose..._you_ intend to make me?"

"You bet your ass...if you have one." Ikkaku smirked.

"I have more of an ass than you have hair on your head."

He just had to go there. It was on now.

_(–)_

Largo surprisingly woke to the sound of a loud bang. He snapped into a sitting position, rubbing one eye as the other looked around for the source of the noise. He tossed the blankets aside so he could stand, though begrudgingly. Just as he straightened, a small herd of the palace guards from Las Noches crashed into the cottage, spears at the ready. They quickly spread through the dwelling, finding him almost immediately.

Largo found his trusty slingshot tucked away in his shirt, from where he pulled it out and took aim. His cero were small, but the energy was highly concentrated. The bright green ball of light and doom snapped from its cradle and blew one guard's head completely off, leaving white powder as a eulogy to its once atrocious face. The others that had intruded on his nap suffered a similar dispatch.

He was confused, uneasy. Why were the guards here? Where was Nana? He hurried out of the cottage and into the chaos outside, Shinigami and Arrancar battling like opposing tides against one another. The air was smoky and hard to breathe, a slight burning starting in his throat. What on earth was going on? Had his constant napping started a war?

Largo made a run for it, he needed to find someone, anyone who could explain what was happening. He fought his way through perhaps a dozen guards, blasting them with a cero if he couldn't manage to sneak away. They were absolutely everywhere; how did they get in? How was moot at this point; the real question was how to get them out.

He continued to press forward, not knowing where he was going, but knowing it was better than just standing still. He took several hurried steps before he felt himself being hoisted up, a sharp pain going up his back. An invader had him by the shirt, hanging from the barbed tip of the lance. Frantic he looked around, seeing how several other of the guards were aiming at him. He picked off two of them quickly, but it wasn't fast enough to stop the others. Like a child he tightened up and covered his eyes.

Then he fell, fast and hard to the ground, scraping his elbows and knees. An arm curled around his waist.

"Come on, squirt,"

"Ranza!" he looked around the Arrancar to see Nel taking out the other guards, slicing torsos and necks to separate.

"We need to get you some place safe," Ranza told him.

"No, Ranza, I can do it. I can fight!"

Ranza gave the boy a sideways look. He was willing to stay awake? That's so...odd. "You sure about this? You're not gonna fall asleep on us?"

"Promise! Come on, Ranza, let me!"

"He certainly wouldn't stay put if we hid him somewhere." Nel said, perhaps unknowing of how right she actually was.

He didn't like the idea, but he forced himself to realize that he didn't have to. Aizen had made his Arrancar just for such occasions, whether they liked to admit or not.

"Okay, kid, but you better keep up."

Largo nodded and continued to dispatch the guards. Ranza and Nel saw to it that more fell to their blades. They were slowed down by Ranza's leg, but still made ample progress to the edge of Seireitei. Largo turned to decide which way to go along the wall when he snapped his head off to the west. He had a look in his eyes that Ranza found difficult to read. In it, he saw fear, confusion, and disgust. It was almost like Largo was about to throw up.

"What is it, kid?" Ranza asked.

"He's here."

"Who?" Nel asked.

"The hungry one. Gluttony. He's here, and he's making the air taste gross."

"Well, then," Ranza said, slinging blood from his Zanpakuto, "let's give him something to eat."

"No!" Largo shouted, grabbing on to Ranza's leg, his real one. "He eats everything! Anything! He doesn't just eat you; he makes you sick, gives you diseases that eat you, softens you up so he doesn't have to chew. And when there isn't a body left, he eats your _soul_."

"How do you know all this?" Nel asked.

"I saw him do it to one of Aizen's other Arrancar. It was one of Aizen's first attempts to make an heir for King Sourpuss. He didn't like it so Aizen had Gluttony eat it. It was the second grossest thing I've ever seen."

"Second? What was the first?" Ranza asked.

"I saw Envy and Lust...together. It was really icky. They were making noises and she told him to put his..."

"Okay!" Nel almost shouted. "I don't think we need to hear this. Let's just find Gluttony and..."

"Didn't you hear me?" Largo said. "He'll eat you!"

"Well, we need to think of something," Ranza said. "Standing here is doing us as much good as condom machine in a convent."

"Yeah, well you don't have a hundred and sixty pound jerk sitting on you, now do you?" Squiddy grumbled.

Ranza was just about to tell Squiddy exactly what hole he could shove his remarks into when he felt a weight fall on his shoulders. A familiar weight. This reiatsu belonged to someone with whom both he and Nel were well acquainted. Ranza felt phantom pain course through his absent leg. It ached for vengeance. He was certain Nel felt something similar. Ranza laid a hand on Largo's head and pulled him to the side.

"How's this for a direction? It's almost in the opposite direction of Gluttony, and it's someone I'm sure Nel wants to say hello to." He looked to the teal-haired Arrancar. "Shall we?"

She nodded and they ran and limped off to face their mutual enemy. However, too focused on their vengeance, they failed to see a small Arrancar carrying a slingshot and a look of reluctance wade deeper into the fetid reiatsu lying to the west.

_(–)_

"Da-ha-hamn, that thing is ugly," Grimmjow chuckled when they could better make out the giant smoke cloud emerging from the ruins of the Twelfth Squad science lab. "I always thought Nnoitra couldn't get any uglier, but I guess I never imagined him mating with a giant fart cloud before."

"Are you through with your commentary yet?" Halibel asked. "Because out of the three of us...five of us, excuse me," she corrected herself after receiving agitated stares from both Ulquiorra and Orihime, "you are the best at finding out how to kill things. So, do what you do best and kill him."

"Alright, alright. Since you complimented me _so_ sincerely, I'll whack old Pedobug for you. But I'm gonna need about fifty bug bombs and about eight dozen of those little pine-scented air fresheners."

"What are you talking about?" Ulquiorra asked.

"You know, the ones shaped like pine trees?"

"Maybe you could talk him to death," Starrk suggested. "He'll get about as fed up with you as we are and stab himself in the ears just for the peace and quiet."

"Or maybe," Grimmjow said, "you could let me come up with the plan since I'm so good at killing stuff."

"Why did I ever suggest you could kill this thing?" Halibel asked. "You clearly don't care that Nnoitra could very well destroy most of Soul Society, thus paving the way for whatever made those portals to go about its business without having to worry about the Shinigami!"

"All of you just shut up!" Orihime screamed. Everyone turned a wide eye to the normally quiet girl. "God, you all are giving me a headache! Now, if you really want to kill this thing, I have an idea. He has to be manipulating the smoke somehow. I doubt he'd be able to control it if his consciousness were diffused throughout the entire body, so it should be centralized somewhere. Blow the smoke away until you find the core, then blow it up and him along with it."

The four Arrancar looked at each other. "I like this plan," Grimmjow said. "Mostly the 'blow shit up' part."

Grimmjow wasted no time in firing cero after cero into the smoke giant's head. Halibel concentrated on the chest while Starrk used his guns to spray the stomach. Orihime used Tsubaki to carve away at the base. Ulquiorra, in his power-suppressed state, had a basic, weak cero that did little more than blow the smoke away. The repeated attacks seemed to draw Nnoitra's attention. He turned his massive head to them, gazing down with his signature smile.

"Ah, so a pussy cat, a minnow, and a puppy came out to play. How cute. Too bad I hate cute." He swung a massive hand towards the ground. Starrk and Halibel jumped out of the way, but Grimmjow tried to stop the attack with his bare hands. He caught it, surprised at how solid it was, how the weight pressed him down, but it simply dissolved around his fingers. He felt the smoke pass around his head, but felt no real pain. It wasn't until the phantom limb passed that he felt its true effects. He doubled over, coughing hard into his hands. He was choking.

"What's wrong, pussy?" the hiss came from Nnoitra. "Hairball?"

"F-fuck you," the Arrancar gagged.

A terrible cackle ripped its way out of the smoke, the air seeming to shudder at the sound. Nnoitra reached down with another of his hands, the other five working of their own accord keeping Shinigami at bay or in a death grip. Grimmjow scrambled to get away, but was simply not fast enough. His ankle was locked between Nnoitra's wispy fingers, its hold like a vice as Grimmjow snarled and clawed at the smoke.

Nnoitra raised him high, letting him dangle by his leg and giggling. He then tossed Grimmjow up, just enough to where he could circle the whole of his grip around him. Grimmjow grasped at his throat, unable to breathe as he was surrounded by pungent vapors.

The others on the ground attacked in earnest. Sure, Grimmjow wasn't their favorite person, but they weren't about to stand back and watch him die. Starrk stepped out of his gigai, now armed with his twin pistols at the ready. He unleashed an endless volley, as many as he could muster. Everyone threw the best they had, without much efficiency. Finally Orihime found it in her to reject part of Nnoitra's arm out of existence, severing it at the elbow from the collective consciousness keeping it together.

True to his feline nature, Grimmjow gathered himself back together and twisted in the air as he fell, landing briskly on his feet. He cough and joked until finally he could breathe again. He wiped his face with his hands, his eyes having begun to water as they burned.

"It's on now, dick hole!" he swore aloud as he drew his sword, laying the palm of his other hand against the flat of the blade. "_Grind, Pantera_!"

Nnoitra's form shuddered and looked to falter against the great blast of spirit energy that came in the wake of Grimmjow's release. Without delay Pantera sprang into action.

It was around this time that Nel and Ranza appeared, eager and ready to fight. They craned their necks upward, taking in the grandiose size of their newly resurrected foe.

"Bastard just doesn't know when to quit," Ranza shook his head, then his brows suddenly lifted. "Looks like the whole damn family is here," then he pointed, having spotted the blue and white blur that was Grimmjow.

"As if we didn't have enough problems already," Nel sounded more worried than pleased. "Wait...where's Largo?"

"What?" Ranza twisted and turned to find the boy, seeing not a hair of him. "Shit! He'll have to wait." he hated to say it, but it was the truth. They needed to stop this towering terror before he destroyed the entire city.

Neliel immediately went on the offensive. Ranza was about to follow suit when he noticed something severely wrong. There was Kurotsuchi, his sword sheathed, just watching. He just stood there as others were being tossed about like leaves on the wind and putting their lives on the line to save what they could. Why was he doing nothing?

The Arrancar prince resolutely limped up to the captain and slapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a firm jerk so they could see eye to eye. "What's you're malfunction, man? They're people dying out there!"

"Get your hand off me," the captain sneered. "I know damn good and well what's going on. In fact I've already figured out how to stop him."

"Then what the fuck are you waiting on?"

"I'm thinking, weighing the consequences." the captain spoke nonchalantly, like there was no hurry.

"Are you serious?"

"Stop yelling. There are a lot of things I need to consider. He's possessing _my_ computer by the way."

"So what? Don't you have, like, five thousand back-ups?"

"Five thousand and thirty eight," he corrected. "But I only have _one_ computer. It would take me months to grow another one. You see my dilemma."

"No, I see the shit hittin' the fan while you just stand here with your thumb up your ass." Ranza glared hard at him, absolutely hating how the Shinigami didn't seem to care. In the end he shook his head. "To hell with you, man." and he took off to join the fight.

Kurotsuchi walked away from the fight, hand stroking his beard. He came to an empty space in the former Twelfth Squad courtyard and gazed at a spot on the ground, as though waiting for something. Off behind him, Nnoitra slammed Grimmjow into a section of wall and a chunk of rubble landed just where Kurotsuchi was looking. He sat down and continued to weigh his options. He felt a small whoosh of air behind him and without turning, his mind instantly sensed and identified the source of the reiatsu. "What do you want, Yoruichi?"

"Nothing really. I just want to know why you haven't ended it yet."

Kurotsuchi growled. "That arrogant Arrancar prince asked me the very same thing. Does he not realize that my creations are as complex and intricate as my own mind? I cannot simply act without thinking it over."

"And?" Yoruichi asked.

"Well, you see, my computer is not made of primitive metal wires and electrical currents, but from living tissue: cerebral synapses, very much like a brain. Actaully," he smiled to himself, "that is the most accurate description of my computer: a living brain. Modified for my own ends, of course, but at its most base level it is completely organic."

"So the toxins produced by your Zanpakuto would infect not only Nnoitra but your computer as well?"

"Only if I were a damned fool. I immunized my entire network against the poison secreted by my Zanpakuto, Shikai or Bankai. However, Nnoitra has caused extensive trauma to the components, and perhaps made the system vulnerable. I can estimate the damage to a fair degree of accuracy, however, I will not put my entire system at risk based on an estimate."

"So what can be done?"

The captain took a slow breath, as if tired of having to explain so much. "One, I destroy the Arrancar's spirit, my computer along with it, and rebuild from scratch. That would take several months just to grow another one, let alone do fine calibrations. Two, I do the same, but rebuild using cellular samples from the one they call Wrath, though Unohana would have my hide for it. That would take perhaps three weeks. Or three, wait for Kurosaki to show up and pull some miracle out of his little bag of tricks. Because you know he will."

Yoruichi found he was right; Kurosaki did have this uncanny habit of showing up at the right time. Where was the little strawberry anyway? In any case, he wasn't here right now, and they needed to come up with something fast.

"We don't have all day for you to think it to death."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know," he rolled his eyes. "Fine, if it will make you all happy." with a begrudged shake of his head he reached into his uniform, finding a tiny remote that he kept on his person at all times, a little remote with just one red button on it. He hated to do this, but there was little other choice. A split second after pressing it hard with his thumb, there was a bright flash and a monstrous bang.

Nnoitra's fog of a body started to writhe and shudder under the blast, a scream ripping through the air. For a moment everyone stood back and watched thinking this would be the end of the demon that just didn't want to die. Nnoitra's frame became malformed and weak, but then suddenly surged nearly twice as high. It didn't work. The knowledge of this left Kurotsuchi in an unheard of stupor, his jaw threatening to pierce his chest as it fell agape.

"Th-that...why didn't it work?" he put his hands to his face horrified at his apparent failure. Kurotsuchi had thought too hard, failing to realize that it was no longer his equipment that the Arrancar was inhabiting, but the smoke emitting from the rubble. He had sacrificed his precious creation for nothing.

Yoruichi's only response was, "That _sucks_."

The other Arrancar watched at the failed attempt to put Nnoitra away for good. This left them rather discouraged, but most certainly not ready to give up.

"What now, oh fearless leader?" Gusano hissed.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" what could he do? Where was Nnoitra getting all his power? Was his reiatsu really so massive? All the flames had been put out, but the air was still so saturated with smoke that fact made little difference. He had to rob Nnoitra of his shape somehow...wait. With a flick of his wrist he turned his sword in his hand, the blade pointed towards the grounds. A sharp thrust forced the tip into his false leg, and with a strong shout he gave the release command.

Gusano emerged as the mighty serpent, towering over his master with a mighty hiss, his bulbous, golden eyes gleaming.

"This is for Nel, you son of a bitch! _Vueltas del Mundo_!"

Gusano opened his mouth as wide as he could stretch it, which was actually quite a ways, and started to steadily inhale. His body grew, blowing up and looking more akin to an ill ribbed barrel. His body expanded, and the cartilage tubes in his skull that he used to breathe began to pronounce themselves, sticking out and fleshy colored as they were exposed to light. When the serpent's lungs would hold no more, he forced all the air out. The air tubes vibrated loudly, like thunder in the clouds, coupling with the sharp trill of the cry from his throat. Everything that heard the sound flinched and gave pause. The echoes were ceaseless, and then came the winds. From every corner of every world arose the torrents of air that pushed and pulled at every foundation. It whipped and wailed, ripping at the earth as it heeded the Arrancar's summons.

Stone tiles, wreckage from collapsed buildings, smoke, corpses, invaders and Shinigami alike were plucked upward by the immense drafts of air. Anything that wasn't well held down or holding on was at the mercy of the gale. The swells converged on Ranza, rippling around him as he subtly, smoothly moved his arms to direct the will of the wind. He demanded it around Nnoitra, the smoke immediately began to fade, being force fed into the hurricane building around him. Slowly, but surely, those still on the ground were beginning to notice the faint yellow glimmer, the spark of life that was Nnoitra's core, like a big fat bull's-eye.

Nnoitra was finally expelled from Seireitei, his reiatsu extinguished once several of the captains had gathered and managed to exorcise it. Still, even as lifeless bodies began falling from the sky, the winds now quiet, the threat wasn't quiet yet over. There were still palace guards haunting the city, not to mention that terrible, almost palpable stench still hanging in the air. That, and Ranza was now all to worried about Largo.

_(–)_

Bordell was eating away at Ikkaku's Zanpakuto, and I mean that quite literally. The spear was snapped in half, part of it gripped tightly by its owner, while the bladed end was sticking out of Bordell's mouth like the uneaten end of a candy cane. The Arrancar smirked as darkened drool trickled and foamed around his mouth.

"I hope you have more," he said. "I'm only getting started."

The Shinigami hadn't been blown away by that horrible storm moments ago, and neither had Bordell which came as quite the surprise. The weight of his cleaver was the culprit for keeping him unfairly safe. Yumichika and Ikkaku hit the dirt and braced themselves, waiting for the maelstrom to stop.

Bordell had the air about him like he was playing with the Shinigami, just toying around to get his kicks...a show before dinner. Yumichika, being in the mood he was (pissy and vindictive) he gave the Arrancar everything he had, pouncing on the disease ridden thing like a cat fresh out of the bathtub and looking for someone to kill. But all of their effort amounted to nothing. Although they would never admit it, they were rather reluctant to get too close. The stench alone was enough to drive off even the stoutest man, but...well...you can imagine the other reason.

"Come now, Shinigami...don't tell me you're afraid? I promise...I'll only make you suffer a lot!" and Bordell lunged, his limbs seeming to stretch as he swung his cleaver in a wide arc in front of him, laughing as the Soul Reapers shied away.

"Hey asshole,"

Bordell turned, hearing the tiny but firm voice from behind him. He dipped his head, seeing a little Arrancar with a slingshot in his hands.

"You looked," and Largo let the cero fly, the ball of energy colliding hard with Bordell's face. As he staggered back, there was another blast as a barrage of cero came from elsewhere, the energy manifesting as crimson ribbons that came crashing down. Wrath appeared, having leaped down from the rooftops, claws poised and fangs bared as she landed in front of the Shinigami.

"Leave," she growled, glancing over her shoulder.

They were making no progress, not gaining or keeping any ground, and they fled without argument. It was the best they could do, otherwise they would simply be in the way.

Bordell wiped at his face, blinking until his eyes cleared. "Well isn't this a pleasant surprise? Big sister, look at you," he sneered, ignoring the little boy entirely. "Cleaned up rather nicely. Still a savage, however...your temper will fill my belly well."

Fiera didn't like being called that, in fact she fucking hated it, and she would be sure Bordell was made aware of his mistake. Largo hung back, firing cero when he knew he wouldn't hit Wrath as she assaulted Bordell. He almost couldn't believe how well his brother could stand up to her in spite of how quickly she moved. Almost. He knew Wrath's reiatsu was feeding him, making him stronger, making him more capable. When she finally landed a blow, cutting him across the face, the skin just hung there, nothing but bone and rotted flesh beneath it, and he showed no sign of pain. He retaliated, the flattened spine of his blade striking Wrath across the chest. She held on to the weapon, refusing to be tossed away, her amber eyes ablaze with fury.

"Nuisance," he snorted, yanking on his weapon so Wrath now stood in front of him. Out of the hole in his belly burst forth a black cero, forcing itself right through Wrath, making a twin opening in her stomach. A great cloud of red mist billowed out of the wound, sweat rolling down the Arrancar's face. The wound was slow to close, a small puddle of blood forming at her feet.

Bordell could feel a sort of wall of strong reiatsu coming towards them, chancing a glance over Wrath's shoulder to find a host of Shinigami and Arrancar barreling down the thoroughfare. It was at this moment he suddenly realized the incredible lack of support he had from the great force of palace guards he had brought with him. This would have to end quickly if he wanted to live. He shoved against Wrath, discharging another cero, forcing the Arrancar to fly back, into the oncoming reinforcements. They scattered, some knocked over, others ducking for cover.

"Now, little brother, to do away with you," he turned, seeing that Largo was suddenly very angry. "Why whatever is the matter?"

Largo felt his face tighten into a hard scowl, his heart pounding in his chest. He'd never felt so mad in his life. He wanted to hurt Bordell, wanted to kill him.

"_Glare, Basilisco_!"

Bordell almost shuddered as he watched the boy change. His body grew, swelled, and reshaped itself into something bordering on the grotesque. His skin darkened to green and gold, brilliant ribbons of bright red splashing across his face, arms, and back. Claws sprouted from his fingers, fangs and a wicked tongue from his mouth. His legs fused together to form a tail that only seemed to get longer and longer until it finally ended, coming to a point as it formed into bony bulbs that rattled when it moved and a single large barb on the very tip. The tail was colored like dim gold, covered in scales that flared and flexed in unison all by themselves. The scales were also barbed, like the tail, and secreted a clear, sticky fluid, a venom that would strike its victim with severe fatigue and eventual paralysis. His mask fragment shifted into something else, a intricately curved decoration to draw that much more attention to his serpentine face, his eyes now much larger and shimmering. Basilisco was a monster that dragged itself sluggishly about on its arms, the girth of his body almost too much to move. He was easily twenty feet or more in length, his tail held high and rattling, the barb always pointed downward. There was a loud, deep his, his jaws wide open and his long tongue darting outward.

Bordell immediately turned his eyes away, focusing them instead on the lethal barb. Sure, Basilisco was slow to move, but as was true of many large snakes, their speed came in their strike, not travel. Still...he didn't like how the boy's reiatsu was beginning to make him feel...sluggish, almost sleepy. But he couldn't stop himself from feeding on it.

Basilisco moved slowly, almost thoughtfully, watching Bordell with staggering interest. He was more than long enough to keep Bordell from trying to run away; the Arrancar would have to run the other way, into the waiting arms of the others coming for him. If Bordell did try to run, he would strike with his tail, whipping or stabbing it towards him. If he went the other way, Basilisco would raise his body up, his belly no longer on the ground, and stretched out his arms, scales flaring and fangs bared. If he could just get Bordell to look at him...

Bordell felt the sudden shift in the spirit energy around him, warning him of an impending cero. He bent backwards, unhindered by healthy joints or ligaments, until the back of his head was almost touching the ground, able to look back and see Ranza and his parasite with their eyes on him. As he was trying to right himself, Basilisco had taken the few seconds he was distracted to put his heavy hands on him. He grabbed Bordell tightly at the bony shoulders, forcing him onto his back before he curled one hand over the top of his head. Bordell found himself unable to move, unable to look away. Then there was the sharp, stabbing pain of scales flexing against the inside of his legs, his skin splitting open and beginning to swell and redden with the venom.

"_Kill him_!" he heard Wrath scream. Bordell began to feel hot inside, tired and stiff. He knew if he kept moving, at the very least wiggling his toes, the venom wouldn't completely take him. Still he could only resist it for so long, too long for the gaze of Basilisco to destroy him. This needed to be rememdied and quickly.

Bordell shut his eyes, one hand still firmly gripped to his Zanpakuto. "_Consume, Enferma_!"

Reiatsu rippled and a horrible stench pierced the air, heavy stifling. Basilisco shied away, arms flailing as a swarm of flies and other insects vomited from Bordell's body and gaping mouth. Overall his form did not change, mostly his mask. His hands were more like claws, and a set of four, bloated tendrils erupted out of his back, but his mask had transformed to cover his eyes and force his mouth to stay open, his jaws permanently pried apart. It seemed like out of every pore spewed out some sort of filth, be it some form of crawling vermin or a black and pussy substance the dripped all over him. Rats were scurrying in mounds around him, mosquitoes and biting flies were an armada above him. Spiders and worms writhed beneath his leathery hide, and around the hole in his belly formed another mouth full of putrid teeth, jagged and wicked, that gnashed and gurgled.

He quickly moved to his feet, rid of the venom because of his own that ran through his veins. With a heavy swing he hacked into the side of Basilisco, nearly severing the widest part of the serpent in half. With a hiss he wiped his tail only to have it caught by the tentacles moving on their own accord from Bordell's shoulders. The other three appendages circled the Arrancar's hands and neck, forcing him to the ground. With a hard yank Bordell brought the tail to his second mouth, taking a hard bite into it. Already the flesh around the fresh wound was starting to look rotted, infected with puss and gangrenous.

"Stay where you are or I will kill him now!" Bordell's second mouth took a second out of its busy chewing to announce his ultimatum. Of course, everyone froze. Everyone but Wrath. She was far too angry, and afraid for the little one, to stand still. She appeared from a puff of red smoke in front of Bordell, landing squarely on his shoulders. While one hand gripped his throat, the other had the claws pointed, and she thrust them hard into Bordell's face. He tumbled back, screaming from both of his gaping maws, a terrible, high pitched wail that gargled and sputtered.

Again and again she stabbed him, moving like a machine in a lethal rhythm. She punctuated the last blow with a primal scream, the claws going right though his mask where the eyes should have been. When she pulled away, mask came with it, and it ripped open a nest of flies that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was a massive, buzzing cloud of them. The skull was empty, and Bordell still lived.

The flies didn't stray far. They were Bordell's eyes now, a hive mind controlling their movements, a mind made up of Bordell's spirit energy. It carried his will like a silent code. Now he could see anything and everything, no longer susceptible to Basilisco's petrifying stare. Not that it much mattered.

Bordell wrestled himself free of Wrath, grabbed her up with the tendrils in his back. He pulled on all of her limbs, pulled and pulled until there was a loud, sickening crunch, then tossed her away like a piece of trash. He wouldn't eat her, it would surely be the end of him. No way he could digest that. Still...there was the little one...what's this?

Through the flies Bordell could see the Largo was now himself again, unable to hang on to the power needed to stay in his released state. Now he was just a wounded little boy, bleeding from his legs and back. That wasn't the interesting part. Bordell could see and smell the sweet life force of the mortal hovering over the boy, a hemisphere of light surrounding them both. If he could have he would've grinned at how badly he wanted to taste the mortal woman's life...he had to have it...just a taste.

Now that Largo was no longer in Bordell's grip, everyone saw fit to move again, but nothing could have been fast enough. With cleaver secure in hand Bordell took haunting, heavy steps towards Orihime. She couldn't, wouldn't move. He was just a boy, a child who needed protection. She wasn't going to run away, she would be brave.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. From the second the flies emerged everything appeared several seconds in the making longer than it normally should. Everyone tried to horde against Bordell before he could make a move against Orihime, but that simply wouldn't be the case. Bordell was able to life his cleaver over his shoulder, jagged edge tilted downward, and swing it in an uneven arc. With the sound of shattering glass it penetrated the shield, fragmenting the energy into slivers. It struck Orihime in the side of the head and neck, fast and hard to shove her to the ground, into a spattered smear of her own blood. This was mere seconds before the others converged on him.

Bordell collapsed under the assault, seeming to disappear. When everyone stepped back they found that the entirety of him had collapsed, melted into a teeming pile of rats and beetles that began to scurry and flee. They could not catch him, and with that, the last of the intruders were forced out of Seireitei.

But still the danger was far from over.

Author's Note: I know this took a very long time, sorry for the wait. I had to force a lot of this, I'm sure you'll notice, but I just had to get it out before I pulled my hair out. I'm not too sure what's going to happen in the next chapter or how I'm going to move this fiction along for the time being. I'm sure it will all come out eventually. Sorry if I'm leaving you guys in a cliff hanger, but I suppose I have to keep you interested somehow.


	19. Chapter 19

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Nineteen**

"_The crowds, the countless, different mutilations, had stunned my eyes and left them so confused they wanted to keep looking and to weep." The Inferno: Canto XXIX, verse 1-3_

"At the very least we have frightened them...sent them a message they cannot ignore." Ciego gently pet his beard, his elbows on the table as he sat between Azar and Valia. He had just finished listening to Azar retelling Bordell's account of his visit to Seireitei. It wasn't as good as Ciego had hoped, considering how few palace guards had made it back, still, he believed his point had gone across. Now Soul Society had no choice but to acknowledge his strength, his power to undo them at will. Of course he was already aware of this, but he wanted everyone else to know it too.

"Surely we can expect some form of retaliation, especially if what Bordell saw is true."

"Yes, very interesting that," Ciego grinned, lounging back. "The Primera...the Third, Fourth, and even the elusive Sixth Espada have appeared to come out of thin air. Still...I'm failing to find myself worried. According to Bordell, weren't some of their powers rather, how do I say...retarded?" he giggled a little, obviously amused by his choice of words.

"That's what he said, still, but it was only speculation on his part. He was able to determine it was them from the reiatsu, which leaves to be said that they are still quite potent." Azar found himself grinding his teeth when his brother gave his comment a dismissive wave of his large hand. "But what do we do now?"

"We need to rebuild our forces, first of all. We suffered heavy losses on this little venture, but that shouldn't be all that difficult."

"What about the other gates that have opened?" Valia interjected. "I've heard rumors that some rather nasty things have started coming out of one of them."

"As have I." Azar added.

"Indeed," Ciego nodded. He had heard the whispers as well, many of them from concerned servants. "Demons, they say, straight out of hell. And here I thought that was us," he laughed again. "Still, in all sincerity, I believe the rumors are true. We may very well have opened a portal to Hell itself."

"The machine is steadily weakening the barriers between the realms," Azar began. "At the rate its deteriorating, if my math is right, I would say we have only a few weeks before more portals open, larger ones. Soon all the worlds will blur together...utter chaos."

"Is that so terrible? I mean, I have an entire realm of subjects that need looking after...so many Hollows...all of them hunger." Ciego raised his brows. Azar knew what he was thinking, it was painfully obvious. Ciego, most likely, wanted that to happen. The occurrence would make it easier for him to rule all the worlds, not just this one, and with little reluctance from the inhabitants of Hueco Mundo; if all the realms bled together, there would be an endless supply of souls for Hollows to devour. He would be the greatest king Hueco Mundo had ever known, a savior and a conqueror.

"I fear that we would, eventually, be overrun." Azar shook his head. "If there is, indeed, a portal to Hell, therein lies the numbers to destroy us."

"If the host of the inferno is enough to tear us down then I'd rather it be them than some band of sniveling has-beens and mortals." he sniffed.

Azar felt his jaw once again tightening, almost able to taste his brother's ego. It was heavy and bitter in his mouth now so over-tired of the flavor.

Ciego laced his fingers together in front of him, pressing his knuckles against his mouth. "Let the Soul Reapers come, if that is their choice"

_(II)_

There were bodies everywhere, lying there rotting in the sun and beneath a heavy, stinking shroud of putrid air. They were being gathered together, laid out in rows beside one another to be counted and written down, both Shinigami and Arrancar. Three hundred in all, a majority of them were palace guards, but it was a thin majority. Perhaps a difference of ten...give or take.

The hole in the wall was already beginning to be mended, the masons hard at work for the last hour or so. More were beginning the work on the Twelfth Squad laboratory, rubble being carted out and newly hewn bricks being brought it. Kurotsuchi was still crying over his wasted computer, having lost all hope after finding that the CPU was totally beyond repair. He would have to start all over again, something he most certainly didn't want to do.

Wrath was heavy even for Nel to lift up. She needed the extra hands as both arms and legs were out of the socket. Once her arms were beneath her, Wrath shoved the shoulders back to their rightful place with a nasty _thwack_ and an abrupt grunt of discomfort. Her hips were righted in a similar fashion. Ignoring the tenderness she immediately stood, almost shoving Nel aside as she hurried to Largo. She lifted the little boy into her arms, cradling him tight against her chest. She looked like a distraught mother, on the verge of tears, which was once unheard of for the angry bear. She took him away.

Grimmjow, now his old self again, looked around, rubbing the back of his sweaty neck. "What a mess."

"We can't just stand here," Ranza said as Gusano went back into his leg. "Wrath's got the right idea; we need to get the wounded taken care of...help who we can."

Ulquiorra found himself staring, his blood starting to go cold. His mind raced as he looked down at Orihime lying there, blood smeared across her face. She was so still...when had she slipped away from him to help the boy? Why didn't he notice her absence? Why couldn't he move when he knew damn good and well, even watched, as Bordell attacked her? A trembling started in his toes and fingers and worked its way up into his chest where his heart was lurching and struggling to work right. That damnable heart! That cursed lump of thumping flesh! He gripped at his chest now forcing him to take deep, quick breaths. He thought a sound escaped him, but everything was suddenly a dull roar in his ears. He couldn't take his eyes of the blood and the empty, glazed over look in her half open eyes. Something red and pink swelled and throbbed just behind her ear that was now split in twain.

Was she...dead?

Ulquiorra knew what this was, despite the newness of the feeling. He was experiencing terror for the first time. This was terror, and it was making his body tight and cold, sweat rolling down his back and his knees threatening to give. He couldn't understand why he felt like screaming. Did it always feel like this...for everyone?

"We shouldn't try to move her," Nel cautioned over Ranza's shoulder.

"But we can't wait," Ranza shook his head, kneeling as he looked her over. "She isn't dead...but that could change real quick."

"I will return with help," and then Nel was gone, the ripple of her sonido was the only thing left. Ranza felt the presence of someone behind him, making him turn on his heels to look up and see. "I thought you were dead...what the hell is your name...cock-jaw?"

Grimmjow laughed. "Good one, haven't heard that yet!"

"Nice to know someone thinks it's funny. Still...I appreciate your help. Thanks for bringing the cavalry."

"Hell, I didn't do shit. I hated that asshole as much as anyone else here. Besides, I was bored." Grimmjow crossed his arms. "Speaking of which, who was the tank with teeth?"

"Wrath."

Grimmjow's eyes widened. "I call bullshit,"

"You'd be wrong."

The debate was cut short upon Neliel's reappearance with a host of Shinigami from Fourth Squad.

"We need to follow them," she said.

"What's the matter?" Ranza stood up, stepping aside as the Soul reapers gathered Orihime onto a stretcher.

"Everyone's starting to come down ill." she did indeed look rather concerned. "Anyone who isn't sick needs to get vaccinated."

"What, an outbreak of the cold and the higher-ups get their thongs in a twist?" Grimmjow sniffed.

"Not the cold, worse." Nel corrected, looking at her fellow Espada gravely. "Plague, scarlet fever, typhus,"

"And a petri dish in a pear tree," Grimmjow had lifted his eyebrows for a moment. "What's the big deal, though? We can't get sick, can we?"

"Everyone is getting something, even some of the captains, and fast. There are flies and mosquitoes everywhere."

"That must be how its getting around." Ranza scowled. "What about rats?"

"Those too."

After a moment Ranza nodded. "Let's get the pests under control first. The shots can wait...what's his problem? He sick?"

Nel looked to see he was looking at Ulquiorra. The poor man was paler than usual, which was actually quite disturbing, and he looked unable to move.

"He cares about Orihime."

"Who?"

"The mortal."

"Oh...wait a minute...he's got a heart now?"

"Long story."

"I'd imagine so. Why she here anyway?"

"She's special." it was the only way Nel could describe it. "She's given us a lot of help in the past," and she gestured to her mask, which had once been broken.

Ranza immediately understood, suddenly finding the mortal significant. It was enough for him to remember her name, enough for him to worry over her health as much as anyone else. But the worrying would have to wait.

_(–)_

The mess of activity bleeding through Fourth Squad was more akin to metro traffic at rush hour than a medical ward. A majority of it was the transportation of bodies, alive and dead, in and out; others were rushing about trying to hand out rubber gloves and masks and bug repellant, anything to keep whatever was going around from spreading any further. Wrath carefully made her way into this mess, holding Largo almost above her head as not to let him be bumped or shoved by people in a hurry. She stood there for several seconds, looking confused; wasn't anyone going to help him? It was as if she was going completely unnoticed, which one would consider rather strange considering how massive a presence (so to speak) she was. Unable to think of anything else, Wrath reached out and snatched up a Shinigami at random, demanding their assistance once they were eye-to-eye.

"Are you not a doctor?" Wrath was perplexed at the Soul Reaper's half-reluctant stance to Largo's severe need. Isane simply couldn't get the words out, tripping over her own tongue in the mild shock of suddenly being uplifted and hanging.

"What's the problem?"

The Arrancar and the Shinigami both turned their heads, and there was Unohana with her face half covered and her hands gloved.

"N-nothing, ma'am," Isane finally spoke. Before she could fully explain, Unohana had already seen Largo, her brow tightening.

"Let me take him." Unohana held out her arms.

Wrath set Isane down only to clutch Largo a little tighter to her, her expression was one of feral caution, like a mother who couldn't bring herself to trust someone else with her child. When Unohana extended her arms a little further, Wrath shied away slightly. She knew the Shinigami, knew she was damn powerful, but...

Wrath twisted her neck to look behind her, where a small tugging on her pants was coming from.

"Everything will be fine, Fiera-san," Hanataro seemed to appear at the perfect time, and the tiny smirk tickling the edge of his mouth suggested that he must have known it. "Unohana-taichou will make him well again."

Her gaze moved between the two Soul Reapers, she wasn't sure what to do. This woman was...but Osito said she would help...

She reluctantly handed him over, trying to hide the trembling that had started in her lips as they took him away. She watched them, eyes boring into the back of Unohana's head, until they disappeared into a room down the hall.

"I am frightened, Osito." She confessed with tightness evident in her throat. "I do not like feeling frightened."

"It's okay." he assured her. "We all get scared sometimes. Where are the others?"

"I do not know." She shook her head, looking heartbroken, like a part of her was missing.

Hanataro wasn't sure what to do, or if his ideas were worth considering. Still, the only stupid idea is the one you don't try. "How about we get away from all this noise? I bet a hot bath would make you feel better,"

Fiera tried to listen to him as he lead her away, back towards her cell, but she couldn't much focus on him. Her little brother was hurt and she couldn't do anything for him; how would she possibly function until he was safe again?

_(–)_

"You lied to me."

Yoruichi lifted her head away from the bodies to look at Soifon, finding the captain's expression to fierce. "About what?"

"You said you didn't know there were more of them."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I did, and if I'd said otherwise, what would you have done? What's the difference?"

Soifon shook her head, seeming reluctant to look. "You should have told the truth."

She was starting to get a little tired of Soifon judging and policing everything she did. "I don't answer to you. Besides, without them we'd probably still be neck deep in shit right now."

"Instead we're neck deep in corpses."

"Don't even go there," Yoruichi almost laughed. "Half of these bodies are rotting _from the inside out_, for pity's sake! Don't point your finger at someone just because it itches." out of irritation she kicked at a rat scurrying by, even more pissed when she missed the damn thing. "Besides, they've got just as much right to a normal life without people like you getting in the way."

"You honestly believe that?" Soifon's expression begged the question, as if what Yoruichi had said was completely absurd.

"After seeing what I've seen today, yes. You can't deny the fact that they put their lives on the line for you guys."

"Isn't it in their nature to kill one another?"

Yoruichi felt her jaw tighten. "Is it in yours to be such a bitch?"

"Why are you defending them?"

"Why aren't you? A lot of lives were spared because they were here."

"Who's to say they didn't orchestrate the attack? They've had the perfect opportunity,"

Yoruichi finally just threw up her hands and groaned. "Would you get your head out of your ass and wake up? You honestly..._OH_!" and she walked away sure that, if she didn't, she would punch Soifon in the mouth.

In times like these, Yoruichi knew the Arrancar needed an advocate to speak for them, otherwise they would never be heard. That, and she had to help them. They were her only hope to get Urahara back...that is, if there was any hope to be had.

_(–)_

Unohana never could pick up on just how quickly she worked when in the Operating Room. Others in the room would marvel at her precision and speed whereas she thought the simplest procedure took hours. This instance was no different; it had only been an hour, but she was feeling as if half the day had already gone.

There was always some tenderness in her heart when she had to operate, but this was hurting something most awful. Largo was only a child. Children should never, ever, have to go under the knife. But, fate had never been a force to follow should or should not, it simply did as it pleased leaving us poor bastards to deal with it.

The operation hadn't been an easy one, she would openly admit. Just keeping the growing infection from the bite wounds on his legs under control was a chore enough in itself. The fear of sepsis was a constant tug at the back of her mind while she worked to put the Arrancar back together. The injuries on his legs were simple enough, just needing extensive cleaning and a row of stitches. But that left the terrible trauma on his back, undoubtedly damage had been done to the spine. Just how much was in question. When Unohana got a better look, pulled away the tattered flesh and exposed the innards to light, she frowned hard. It was bad. Broken vertebra, ruptured discs, and exposed spinal chord. There were fluids spilling everywhere. It was a train wreck.

_Don't panic...deep breath..._ That's what they taught at the academy. The patient was only in real danger when the doctor couldn't focus. Still, that didn't help matters much. Her education in spinal trauma was rather limited. Bones were an easy fix, and discs were often repaired by simple means as well, but...what could she do without hurting the boy further?

_Think...think...think..._

She felt her heart sink again. There was an idea, but she would hate herself later, thinking herself a hypocrite. But what other choices did she have?

"Isane?" she started calmly.

"Ma'am?" the vice-captain lifted her eyes.

"I need you to go as fast as you can and find Hanataro. Have him bring the Arrancar to me."

"The big one?"

"Yes."

"Right away." Isane practically disappeared.

Unohana fought the urge to massage her temples, not wanting to get blood on her more than it was already. Perhaps ten minutes went by before Isane returned, Wrath and Hanataro following closely behind. Immediately Wrath frowned, her normally firm exterior collapsing. She stood beside the table, staring hard at the terrible wound in silence. Then her amber eyes lifted to look at Unohana, finding the captain looked on the verge of making a request.

Before she could ask anything, Wrath spoke. "What do you need?"

Unohana ignored her surprise for the time being. "What can you give?"

Wrath looked down at the opening in Largo's back again, looking closer and turning her head this way and that. When she straightened again she shrugged.

"You will need...to trade part for part. Take it from me and he will be well again."

Unohana mentally cringed. That sounded like a messy endeavor. "How?"

"You will need to make it cold first. I will not heal so fast if I am cold."

"Fiera-san, doesn't the cold hurt?" Hanataro looked up at her, seeming concerned.

"Not as much as watching my little brother suffer. Do what you must."

Unohana didn't much care for the idea, but she wasn't about to be picky simply because she didn't completely approve of the method. Medicine wasn't always easy.

Fiera sat in a chair, the back of it against her chest. She wrested the yukata from around her shoulders and let it bunch at her waist, tucking some of it under her arms to keep her breasts covered. She knew what was coming, the pain she was promised. Still, anything was better than Largo lying on the table, his insides falling out. She found a little comfort when Hanataro pulled up a chair in front of her, smiling at her with a sense of encouragement.

The wait was awful, Fiera being a rather impatient person to begin with. She was eager to get this done and over with. They started off slowly, piling bags of ice on her shoulders and pressing them to her back, one after another. She took the first few rather well, but her threshold was quickly crossed. It wasn't long before she was growling at the pain with a fierce scowl. Her hands clenched into fists, the tips of her claws biting into her palms. She started to shiver, her jaw only tightening.

"We're trying to move quickly." Hanataro said.

Fiera only nodded, not wanting to move, much less speak. Hanataro chanced to put his hands over her arms, thinking perhaps it would give her the slightest bit of warmth, the slightest bit of relief. Sweat began rolling down her face, dripping from the deep furrows in her brow. It was burning, a sharp, piercing sear. She could almost feel her very cells slowing to stop with the chill. But her nerves were wide awake, kicking and screaming.

Fiera shut her eyes and allowed her mind to wander away from this, anywhere, it didn't matter. Her mind, as basic as it was, could only find its way back to similar time and place, where she had felt the same pain once before.

Once he had discovered her weakness, Aizen would force this pain on her quite often. She didn't know why, but his reasoning had been for the sake of knowing. How much was she able to take? How far could he push, prod until he knew what would put her down should the need arise? It wasn't long after that he had created the quadruplets, giving each of them their icy powers, and letting them practice on her. All of the mental pictures regarding this were vague and fuzzy, almost intelligible, but she could still remember how it felt. It felt like this.

There wasn't as much blood as expected when they finally started cutting. The incision was trying to close itself, but at a snail's pace, giving them plenty of time to harvest the parts they needed. It was not easy or quick. Fiera tried her best not to move, but sometimes the pain would just shoot through her body, from her toes up to her head, and she couldn't stop herself from flinching or jerking.

"_Hurry up_!" she snarled, making the Shinigami behind her recoil.

"They are doing their best, Fiera-san. It won't be much longer." Hanataro was trying to keep all of the Arrancar's attention on him, anything other than what else was going on. He tried idle conversation, something to distract her until they were finished. Of course she wasn't very talkative, but it was still worth the attempt.

When at last the job was done, Fiera dropped her head, finally able to relax a little. The bags of ice left large red welts all over her back, tender to the touch like a burn.

Unohana quickly took the donations and put each piece in its proper place. When nothing occurred in the first few seconds she began to worry.

"Wait...until it warms." Fiera explained, her fatigue showing in her voice.

A few more minutes passed before Unohana sighed in relief. The hot mess righted itself, little by little, until all that remained was the damaged flesh, which was corrected with an array of stitches. Fiera was starting to regain feeling in her back, the throbbing starting as they put Largo gently onto his side and covered him in a blanket before wheeling him out of the room.

"Where are they taking him?" still so worried for her little brother.

"He needs to sleep." Unohana replied, pulling the bloodied gloves off her hands and throwing them away. "He should be fine after a while."

"Good." she nodded as she tried to stand, righting the yukata so it would cover her. "...Thank you...for helping him."

Unohana smiled, perhaps a little amused at the Arrancar's reluctance to show her gratitude. "I wouldn't have been able to do much more without you. I should be the one giving thanks."

As Fiera shook her head in dismissal, Isane came hurriedly back into the room. "Unohana-taichou, they've asked for your assistance in OR number two."

"I'll be right there."

The Arrancar watched as Unohana quickly washed her hands and donned a new apron before going the short distance down the hall to the other operating room. Ignoring Hanataro's suggestion that she go back to her room and rest, Fiera followed shortly behind, curious if nothing else. Without having to stretch she peered through the small window near the top of the door. In moments she recognized the girl lying on the table, the young mortal with the long hair that had tried to protect Largo.

She stood there for the next three hours, making note of how the doctors began to look increasingly distraught over something. Was the procedure not going as well as they hoped? Would the girl die after all? That would be a shame...a real shame. Normally Fiera was not be bothered by the frailty of humans, of their misfortune simply because she didn't have the mind to, but one could imagine why this could be considered a special case. The human had, albeit inadvertently, done Fiera a kindness by helping Largo. The Arrancar found it difficult not want to return the favor.

Fiera saw Unohana lift her head, their eyes meeting through the glass, the Shinigami holding the same look as before, a silent plea for help. How could she refuse?

_(–)_

It was dark now, the sun having been below the horizon for almost an hour. The pest control had gone rather well, but there would be nothing done without enough light to see the little vermin with. When it was decided to call it quits, everyone made for Fourth Squad, not wanting to but knowing it was best if they got vaccinated just like everyone else. Sure, chances were good they wouldn't get sick, but at least they wouldn't be passing it to anyone.

Now they were all sitting in chairs in one of the many examination rooms, waiting their turn for the needed shots. It was actually kind of funny to watch the Shinigami try their damnedest to get the needle in their arms, Nel and Ranza still possessing hierro. Grimmjow would have none of it, swatting at the Shinigami with his hands until they simply let him be.

"Come on, Cock-jaw," Ranza said. "Man up and take it like the rest of us."

"The hell I will. I-don't-get-sick." he punctuated the words by jabbing the top of his thigh with one finger. "And gimme a different nick-name, this one's starting to piss me off."

"You make it sound like I take the time to pick and choose."

"How about we just call you jerk." Nel crossed her arms.

"Why so cruel, baby?" Grimmjow feigned hurt feelings. "But, seriously, call me something else."

"I don't know, I kind of like her idea." Ranza smirked.

"Agreed." Halibel and Starrk added in unison.

"Man, why's everybody gotta be hatin'? I helped out, didn't I? I didn't have to come, you know." and he began to sulk like a scolded child.

"Then why did you?" Starrk asked, though he was there when this matter was discussed before.

"I was bored." Grimmjow huffed.

Ulquiorra was still very quiet. He found himself somewhat numb to what was going on around him. The lights, the ticking seconds, the idle conversation, all of it was like white noise to his senses. It was there but it just went right through him. He was chewing on his nails and couldn't fully understand why. There was a heaviness on him that he couldn't explain. He could feel shaking deep down in his very core, right beside his heart that was still pounding so hard. Ulquiorra was so full of fear and worry that he wondered if it would kill him outright. Would that be any worse than this torturous emotion?

Ulquiorra could no longer ignore or question the concrete feelings he held for the woman. No more denial. There was nothing trivial or debatable about this piercing terror or the thoughts running through his head. What if he would never see the woman smile again, or hear her voice so encouraging when he was confused or troubled? What of her warming touch, her kiss, her kind and boundless heart? If she was gone forever, what would become of him?

Grimmjow noticed Ulquiorra's state and gawked at him, curious. He leaned in his chair towards him, waving a hand in front of him as if expecting him to react. When he didn't, Grimmjow prodded his arm with a finger, giving a gentle shove to have him only rock slightly back and forth for a brief moment.

"You okay, bat man?"

"Leave him alone." Halibel demanded softly.

"What, I was just asking!" Grimmjow defended. "Damn, try to be nice,"

"You're just being a nuisance. You know he's upset."

Before the bickering could continue the door opened, Captain Unohana stepping inside. "Good evening, everyone," she greeted tiredly. You could see the fatigue in her face, the redness in her eyes.

Ranza stood up, taking a step forward. "What's the word? How's the little guy?"

"Largo will be just fine." she seemed very happy to say.

Ranza gave a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mama-san," and he hugged her.

With a small laugh she returned the gesture. "To be completely honest, I'm only partly responsible."

"What do you mean?"

"Without Wrath I don't know what condition he would be in right now. She...she was right behind me," Unohana looked over her shoulder not to find the Arrancar where she'd once been.

Ranza wasn't very much surprised. Largo had taken a shine to her a long time ago, and she seemed to reciprocate, so this came as something rather natural.

"How soon can we see him?"

"Not too soon, I'm afraid. Yamamoto-sotaichou has issued a midnight curfew as well as a forty-eight hour quarantine. Have you all been vaccinated?"

"Most of us," Ranza eyeballed Grimmjow who only scowled back at him.

"Good. Still, wherever you decide to stay for the night, you will have to remain there until the quarantine resolves."

"That's just fine." Ranza wasn't going to argue with it, in fact it almost sounded like a damn good idea to take the next two days off. "What about the girl?"

Unohana's expression failed a little. "The trauma was extensive, but the surgery went as well as anyone could have hoped. We won't know much more for a day or two yet."

"Will she live?" the million dollar question.

"Her chances are good, better than you might think, but it's still too early. In cases like these it is liable to go one way or the other."

"Well...as long as everything that can be done is done...we can't ask for more." he nodded finally. "Thanks again, Mama-san."

"Still can't remember my name?" she smiled. "I guess I'll have to try a little harder. Goodnight, everyone."

Ranza felt a little embarrassed, but it was quick to pass. Inf act he dismissed in completely when he saw a large shadow pass just outside the still open door, a silhouette unmistakable. He poked himself out of the room.

"Hey, Wrath,"

She paused, turning her head before fully coming around to face him. Her shoulders were hunched forward, like she hadn't the strength to hold them up. Her expression was a weary one, almost sad.

"What is it?" she asked.

The words were slow to come, why he wasn't sure. "I heard what you did for the little guy...thanks."

Out came a breath that resembled a laugh, a disappointed one. "You think I would have done differently?"

"No, no, not at all, just-,"

"It is okay." Wrath raised a dismissive hand. "I know what you mean. I love my little brother...I would give my life for him."

Love? Did she even understand what love was, what it entailed? Did she even have the capacity to feel that? Maybe so. "Are you all right?"

"I am tired. The day has been long." and she turned away, starting down the hall again. Not stopping until she was back in her room. Slowly and in the darkness she undressed, left her clothing in a pile on the floor, and covered herself entirely with the blankets. She was content to be alone right now, away from people, away from light, alone to ponder the still pounding welts on her back.

Ranza stood there for a moment, finding himself a little confused. Wrath was acting so strange. Then again, the consistency of her behavior was new for everyone, even her. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit concerned, if for no other reason than his natural sense sympathy. When he turned back he noticed that Starrk, Halibel, and Grimmjow had leaned out of the room and into the hallway as well.

"What's the matter?"

"That really was Wrath, wasn't it?" Starrk looked rather surprised.

"I remember her being bigger." Halibel noted aloud.

"I don't remember her having tits,"

"Shut up, Grimmjow," Ranza rolled his eyes with a grimace.

"Hey, you got it right!"

"Only because I'm starting to hate you." he wouldn't say why, knowing that the blue-haired Arrancar would most likely use it to tease him some more, which was something he wasn't willing to put up with right now.

Within the next hour everyone had scattered and gone to bed, and wouldn't see one another for the next two days.

_(–)_

Komamura slowly pulled the soft brush down the length of Unohana's naked back, parting the frothy film of soap suds in two. His ears flitted back and forth to sound of popping bubbles, his nose twitched at the almost too strong scent of flowers in the soap. He tried to keep his focus on the nape of her neck, where highly restrained and stark raven hair bordered flawless fair skin, instead of her bare backside. When she lifted her arms out to the sides he began at the shoulders, gently scrubbing the ebb and flow of each delicate muscle until he reached her fingers. Her quiet sigh of satisfaction sent a rippling shiver up his back.

It had all started with his innocent request to walk with her to her cottage, and once he saw the tiredness in her face he couldn't help himself with the desire to be close by. Sajin had expected an hour or so over tea and then straight to bed, but she mentioned the need for a hot bath and that, more or less, piqued his interest. He was surprised at himself when he offered to wash her. Yes, he knew well about the curfew and all that, but he hadn't intended to spend the next two days alone. Besides, the only genuine threat to him were the fleas and mosquitoes. He had rubbed a few choice oils into his fur a few hours ago to remedy that. Not to mention that if he were with her, she would be a less likely target for the little pests.

"That is so nice," Retsu sighed. "Could you..."

"Yes?"

"Would you mind rubbing my shoulders? I know you hate soap in your fur,"

"It's no bother." he interrupted. She was right, he didn't like it, but it was a small thing to worry over. He quietly set the brush aside and began to work, using the rich lather to ease the motions of his pressing and pulling. Her head dipped forward and she groaned. Sajin could feel the thick tightness circling the base of her neck, feeling her flinch a little when his strong hands addressed it.

The man in him couldn't help but admire her form, her tender features and seemingly endless curves. Lord have mercy, she was so beautiful.

"How's that?" he asked when he believe he'd done enough.

"Just fine," she replied contently.

With a tiny spark of pride he slowly rinsed the suds away, pouring a bucketful of warm water of her.

"Would you like me to wait outside for you, give you some time to yourself?"

"I wouldn't dream of it. Stay." she almost demanded as she stood, taking the few short steps needed to get into the tub.

Retsu was impressed. Sajin was much calmer than last time. He wasn't so flustered, actually looking somewhat pleased to be here. She also noticed how much smaller he seemed when he wasn't in uniform. The many layers of clothing inflated his figure, but now that he was stripped down to only his hakama, he didn't appear so imposing a man. It was actually quite charming. The feeling only compounded when he gave her a little smile as he sat cross-legged, his hands in his lap.

Several long moments passed in serene quiet, where they simply basked in one another's company. Finally Sajin said, "I am glad the boy will be well."

Retsu lifted her eyebrows. "I didn't think you cared all that much for him."

His ears flattened a little. "At first, perhaps, but...I suppose I needed some time to adjust to the idea. He really is a good kid."

"Are saying that because he likes to hug you?" she laughed gently.

"I'll admit it helps his case," he admitted. "But, honestly, I do not sense any genuine evil in him. Were it not for his appearance...you would think him as just another child."

For moment she felt quite smug, ignoring the desire to say I told you so.

"Although," he continued, "I cannot say I am comfortable with more Arrancar being in the city. It makes me uneasy."

"I would imagine so. I'm not completely comfortable with it either. Still, they did lend us a much needed hand today."

"I won't deny it, but I'm still not sure..." Sajin shook his head, his expression grave.

"The best we can do is wait and see." she sighed.

Both of them were trying to stay away from talking about the day's events. Both were there, both of them had lived through it, there was nothing left to be said now that it was done.

It wasn't long before Unohana decided it was time to get out. Sajin was there with a towel, holding it open that he could wrap it around her once she stepped out. She clung to his chest as he smoothed the plush cloth over her body. His fur was so warm and it smelled like pine and mint in the summer time.

While Retsu readied herself for bed, Sajin did the same, quickly undressing and slipping under the thin blanket. Unohana's bed was not sizable enough for both of them to sleep comfortably, so they laid out the blankets and pillows on the floor. Sajin watched as she let her hair down, tying it back in only a loose pony tail, the ribbon settling below her shoulder blades. He felt his eyes widened when she turned and began walking to the bed...she still hadn't dressed. Was she intending to...oh dear.

She paused before putting out the only lamp in the room. "Is something wrong? Sajin?"

He didn't even realize his mouth was open, his tongue lolling to one side. He was far too busy gawking.

"Sajin?"

He shook. "N-no, no, everything is fine." then he laid down and hid beneath the blankets, covering his head with them.

Retsu blew out the lamp, smiling in the darkness as she settled down beside him. "Is something the matter?" she whispered.

Sajin swallowed when he felt her slender arm circle his waist, as much as she could anyway. He was not a slender fellow after all.

"You were doing so well, now you're nervous again."

"You'll have to forgive me." he said. "I was not expecting...this."

"I'm sorry," she snuggled up close behind him. "You must think I'm cruel doing this to you."

He felt her breath against one of his ears and a whine caught in his throat. "Not at all."

"Then you don't mind?"

He swallowed again, feeling he should be careful how he answered. He took a breath and let it out slowly. "No. I don't mind." Why did he suddenly feel like he would regret this?

His fur bristled, tingling spreading all over when she started to pet his chest and belly. Her fingertips traced the hidden furrows of his muscles, she even found his normally hidden nipples.

"So soft," she whispered with an air of astonishment, as if she hadn't expected them to be there at all. Her hands continued to wander over him, finding a quiet glee deep in her heart at the texture of his pelt. But she never touched lower then his navel only dwelling briefly on the fleshy knot that would have normally been a belly button.

"_Now_ you're being cruel," he growled. Sajin was deeply enjoying the sensation of her touch, but that was also the dilemma. His growing erection was quickly becoming discomforting.

"Should I stop?" she sounded like she was about start laughing.

_Yes, you should._ He thought as he put his tongue between his teeth, biting back a whimper. If she didn't, he feared the consequences. He was only a man.

Finally he lifted the blanket from over his head and rolled onto his back, find her hand in the dark and clasping it with his own. Though his color distinction in the dark wasn't nearly as good as during the day, he could still see rather well. Well enough to find her.

"If I didn't know any better," he started cautiously, "I would guess that you wanted something."

Retsu shifted that she might sit and her other hand found the tender spot beneath his chin, scratching it gently. "Perhaps I do."

If she could only see the look on his face. "B-but..." he couldn't find the words to finish.

"Sajin," she continued, realizing that he wouldn't. "All day I've had to see all of the terrible things people do to one another for seemingly no other reason than that they're different...ugly things...I need something beautiful."

"You're flower garden,"

"It's not the same." she interrupted. "Nature is perfect, I've never questioned that. It seems humanity is the difficult thing for me."

"I'm not exactly human." he said flatly.

"Maybe that's why I love you." she thought aloud.

"...Love?"

"You think we would be like this if I didn't? Come now, Sajin," and she poked his nose to show her mild disappointment in his obliviousness. "You know me better."

Sajin pulled down his ears in submission. She was right, and he was just being silly. "Forgive me, Retsu. I suppose I am still unaccustomed to this sort of attention."

"Allow me to rectify that." Not so much a request as a statement.

He couldn't protest, he couldn't talk it out. She was going to have her way whether he liked it or not. Of course he _did_ like it, but it was the principle of the matter; men were supposed to instigate these sort of things...right? Retsu didn't seem to much care for the politics of it all, that and she had the feeling if she didn't take the lead he never would. His hesitance was actually kind of cute.

They started out slowly, with gentle kisses and nips and the rubbing of noses. Once he was more comfortable, Sajin circled his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She shifted to her knees, bracing herself on one hand while the other stroked his ear and neck. His large hands splayed across her shoulder blades and slowly sank down to curl over the plentiful swell of her hips. It was a good thing his mouth was busy or he would have lost all control and confess how much he had always admired her gorgeous butt. With that being said, I suppose you could classify Sajin as an ass man.

Retsu was enthralled by the feel of his hands on her. Though there were roughened callouses on his fingers, dog-like pads where fur didn't grow, it still sent shivers up her back when they brushed against her skin. She gave a tiny moan, a sound that made his ears wiggle.

She leaned back when Sajin began moving, eventually settling into a sitting position. He puts his arms around her again, pulling her forward until she was in his lap, the thin blanket still the only barrier between them. Her long legs just managed around him, his waist more akin to a tree trunk than a body part. If it wasn't so dark he Sajin would be able to see her blushing. Sure, she had been married before, but that was so long ago; now it was almost like the first time all over again.

Sajin found himself over his initial anxiety rather quickly, as if all of this was meant to be, therefore, permissible. Once the nervousness and mild shaking was gone, he became somewhat enthusiastic about it. He finally realized just how much he had been, should I say...lusting after her? She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his long life so...yeah, lust was a good word. But it wasn't the only word.

Sajin could taste a hint of the soap on Retsu's skin as he slowly drew his tongue down the slow of her neck. He then opened his mouth, putting the tips of fangs press just so into her shoulder. There was a tiny gasp and the clutching of her fingers in his fur, a sharp prick that made him want to wag his tail...if he had one, that is.

"A little more, Sajin," she panted.

At first he was taken aback by the request, but eventually complied. He pulled back, moved his snout to where her neck and shoulder met, and again mimicked a deadly bite, going so far as to growl a little. She groaned loudly, her back arching into him, and then she laughed. Her tone suggested she was amused, but Sajin had a feeling it was more over her own reaction than him.

Retsu never imagine how potent Sajin would be. He was making her feel so...there wasn't a word for it, none that she could think of at the moment, haziness of mind notwithstanding. Her heart raced, her body warmed to him, and there was a giddiness in her that was better associated with teenagers being out after curfew on a school night. Somehow she considered this a hint on the taboo side; she was human, he was not...oh the erotic potential was scandalous!

With his fingers in her hair he paused, pressing his forehead to hers. "Ready?" he asked guardedly. He was more than ready and eager, but he didn't want it to show in his voice.

"Not just yet," she replied. She delicately took one of his wrists, directing it so has hand would close around one large breast. "Touch me some more."

He didn't need to be asked twice. She rubbed the tips of his ears in rhythm with his hands squeezing and teasing, the rough pad making her bite her bottom lip against a squeal of delight. Now the steadily building tightness in her core was nearly unbearable, and the feel of his erection along the curve of her buttocks wasn't helping...well, actually it was but...you know what I mean.

Sajin lifted, straightening his legs and encouraging her onto her back, taking a nipple carefully into his mouth as he settled over her. She arched her back again and, now that the blanket had fallen away, could feel the strength and smoldering heat of his member against her belly. Sajin groaned, the strength in his arms threatening to give.

"Retsu, please," he growled into her chest, a hint of a whimper on his plea. "I need you."

"I'm ready."

He kissed her belly in gratitude, grabbing her up in his arms and lifting her as he leaned back again until he lay flat. Now she straddled him, her palms against his chest.

"You will have to show me how...you prefer it." he admitted with a little nervousness. Perhaps he was a little embarrassed with his lack of experience? I mean, he knew how _he_ wanted to do it, but he wasn't too sure she would be keen to that idea; that and he didn't want to come off as selfish. Although being with her like this, any man would feel spoiled.

Unohana felt a little on the spot. Several dozen decades had passed since last she was with a man and...I'll be damned, she couldn't quite remember what she liked. Oh well, a bit late to consider that now.

She eased down his belly, passed his navel, and then stopped. She found his member with her hands and bit back a gasp. Oh my, she fretted. This could stand to be a slow and difficult engagement; she had to admit that her late husband hadn't been quite as...great a man as Sajin.

"S-something wrong?" he stammered in the dark.

"Of course not," she almost fibbed. Nothing was wrong, just...perhaps a little awkward. Still, they had come this far. Like everything else, she would approach this with confidence.

Sajin could feel all his muscles acting on their own as she eased him inside of her. His hands clenched around her thighs, his toes started curling, and his lips pulled back in a fierce snarl. Unohana tried to take the first penetration without complaint, but it just couldn't be done. She bit her knuckles at the discomfort, a small cry here and there as she carefully slid back down. When they were finally joined, both of them shook and then held still.

"...Can I?" he asked after a moment.

"Gently."

Her body protested him longer than she thought it would, but, on the other hand, she hadn't expected there to be...so much. Her hands fisted in the fur on his belly until the pain finally went away, then it was all bliss and rainbows. She let him move with her.

Pleasure surged over them like a wave. In time they became a writhing mess of fur and jet black strands, blushing flesh and ruddy fur, surging hips and arching backs. It was actually something rather beautiful. There was no hurry, no lofty expectations of performance, everything was simple and genuine.

Sajin couldn't believe he was here, like this, with her of all people. He never saw it coming, not even the seemingly innocent beginning to their relationship. It was only dinner, but now...it humbled him so to realize that someone so lovely, so perfect in every way could accept him to this degree. Up until now he believe Tosen had been his only friend, and then to lose him the way he did...Sajin thought there would be no one else. This was one of the few instances he was more than glad to admit his mistake. Even his wildest dreams couldn't hold a candle to her splendor.

When the moment came, that great apex that all lovers strive for, that great rapture that shoves us to the edge of the abyss and than yanks us back, Sajin quickly realized he wasn't yet satisfied. He wanted more, wanted to do it again. And Retsu did not object to the idea.

And would not object throughout the remainder of the night.

Author's Note: Please excuse me if that last bit was somewhat corny. I wanted to approach the pairing with some subtlety and reverence, and I think I did that rather well. Chances are if I do this again, the text will show a little more confidence and passion, as you see new lovers don't develop those traits right away, much less the first time especially if they're as sheltered and underexposed as Komamura. Next chapter will probably be a bit of filler, maybe some more pairings, we'll see. It won't be long before I get back on track with the plot and finish this fic.


	20. Chapter 20

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty**

"_If you entreat them by that love of theirs that carries them along, they'll come to you." The Inferno: Canto V, verse 77-78_

The quarantine came and went, and life in Seireitei resumed as best it could, it's wall only half mended and many Shinigami from Twelfth Squad still displaced. The security detail had been doubled, many of them on the look out for the one Arrancar still unaccounted for, the one they had heard could change shape. Naturally there was no trace of him, only whispers and rumors, but that didn't stop them from looking all the same. Everyone was looked at with suspicion, no exception, a seeming symptom of the heavy veil of ill-at-ease that had settled over the city.

The word went out for all of the captains that were well enough, especially those part of the Ijin-Ono, to report to Yamamoto-sotaichou for an emergency meeting. Most of them were able to attend. Kenpachi was down with a touch of the plague and, perhaps out of paranoia, Ukitake chose to remain hold up in his room for a few days yet. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to be ill once again, so everyone was quite forgiving of his absence.

However, for those present, Yamamoto was not much in a forgiving mood. He made rather clear his disgust and disappointment at the most recent incident. No one argued, feeling the guilt creeping around each and every one of them. Perhaps their only saving grace in his eyes was how quickly the situation was addressed and subdued.

"With that being said, we can no longer ignore the severity of the situation. Our only option is to retaliate, and quickly."

"We're ready should they attack again," Soifon said.

"I'm afraid there is more to it than that." Toshiro spoke up. "Other portals have opened, and creatures are coming out of them; Ukitake-taichou and I both saw it. We need to have them closed as soon as possible."

"That means going into Hueco Mundo." Kyouraku sighed. "Now, I'm not going to say these folks are any worse than Aizen, but I have a distinct feeling that it might take a little more than what we have to stop them...especially if these things Hitsugaya mentioned decide to move on the city...which we can more or less count on." They needed to consider the worst possible scenario, which was actually easier than you might think.

"We certainly couldn't afford for all of us to go." Byakuya stated the obvious. "Most of us will have to remain."

"Then who goes?" Kyouraku crossed his arms.

"I will ultimately make that decision." Yamamoto answered, everyone's head turning back to him. "First we must consider our options. I believe we cannot grant the Arrancar sanctuary for much longer, I feel they have drawn undue attention to us. However, I will not shy away from a perfect opportunity."

"You mean they could serve to our advantage?" Soifon thought aloud.

"Exactly."

"How could we convince them to do it?"

"We do not have to. It was part of the agreement that they offer their assistance in exchange for refuge."

"So we send the Arrancar, let's say they complete the task and survive...what then?" Kyouraku chanced to ask the question.

"There will no longer be a reason for them to stay." Soifon answered, her tone suggesting that his question was an unnecessary one. "It's that simple."

"What will be difficult is how to approach Las Noches." Toshiro said. "Many of us have never been there."

"But the Arrancar have. Surely they would know of ways to get in discreetly." Byakuya interjected. "Not to mention that the forces at Las Noches may still be trying to recover from their losses. It is a perfect opening."

"I agree." Yamamoto nodded his head. "Find the Arrancar prince and have him brought here that I might speak with him. With the exception of the Ijin-ono, you are all dismissed. I would like for you to stay as well, Captain Hitsugaya." those that were given leave all bowed in turn and vacated, leaving the sparse few behind. Once it was the door had closed tight and it had been quiet for several moments, Yamamoto began again.

"With the possibility of the Arrancar surviving the attack on Las Noches comes the chance of an even larger danger. I wish to discuss any measures that may be taken to remove it with as little collateral damage or trouble from the other Arrancar as possible."

The conversation went on as if no one could hear them. Quite the contrary. No one seemed to sense the slight shift in spiritual energy just outside the double-doors, coming from the single guard that was always there as he listened through the tiny space between them. If they didn't notice that, you know they never caught on to the guard's seemingly new beauty mark beside his mouth.

_(–)_

Unohana was glad to be back to work. Something about that meeting had been strange, hurried, perhaps even suspicious. Why was Hitsugaya ordered to stay behind? He was not Ijin-ono. She couldn't quite understand it, and gave up on the notion after a few moments trying to figure it out. Maybe it was just her.

She did her best to ignore the muscles complaining in her lower back and thighs as she climbed the small set of stairs to Fourth Squad's main building. She allowed a small smile to slip across her mouth as she though about it, why she was so tender. Komamura had been a big, albeit pleasant, surprise, and deep down she looked forward to his next visit. But now wasn't the time for lustful folly, there were things to do.

Her first stop was her office to read over the morning patient reports. A vast majority of them were good, made possible by the early detection of the illness. Many of those affected were already through the worst of it. By the looks of it, Kenpachi hadn't even broken out in the sores that were often so typical for plague. The only area of concern were a group of five Shinigami that had contracted some sort of fungal infection in their lungs. From the rats no doubt. But the situation was being addressed and their progress sheets showed that their condition was already beginning to improve. With the paper work caught up she left her office, wanting to personally check on the two patients still in the intensive care ward.

Unohana could hear snoring from the far end of the hallway, garnering enough of her attention to convince her it was best to check on Largo first. It looked like he hadn't moved an inch, still laying on the same side, but at least some of the color was back in his face. She sat on the edge of the bed as she looked him over. He wasn't showing any signs of fever or distress and his pulse was quite normal. She chanced to wake him up, giving him a soft shake by the shoulder.

The snoring stopped and Largo swallowed, his eyes still closed. Then there was a shimmer of amber between the lashes, a brief one. "Nana," came a whisper.

"Yes," she smiled. "Could you wake up?"

"Don't wanna." he whimpered.

"You need to." she encouraged gently. "I need to see how you're doing."

"I'm still sleepy."

"Let me have a look and then you can go back to sleep." she promised.

"Okay."

She helped him sit up and pulled him forward just so, letting him lean into her while she checked his back. The wound had sealed very well, having become an almost stark white scar. It would be safe to take the stitches out now. Unohana had to reach and pull the blankets aside to look at his legs, finding them mended as well.

"Can you move your toes, Largo?"

"'Course I can," he slurred, wiggling the little digits slowly.

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head, nuzzling into her clothes. "Where's Wrath?"

"I don't know, but I'll be sure to have her visit you today."

"Kay."

Unohana carefully felt up and down his back, checking for any tenderness or misalignment of his spine. When she tried to put him back to bed, she found he was already asleep and clinging to her uniform like a security blanket, a fist near his mouth as if he were about to start sucking his thumb. Her heart melted. For her own sake, anything to sate that motherly instinct, she couldn't help but hold him for just a moment. That moment quietly turned into half an hour, and when she looked up she was startled to find the whole of the observation window full of swooning onlookers. Isane in particular had a look of someone who was fighting not to say something inappropriate but accurate. Behind the vice-captain was the looming shadow that Unohana had actually been eager to see.

Wrath opened the door and stepped inside, her expression a far cry different from the others outside.

"Is something wrong with him?"

"No, no," she shook her head, managing to pry the boy away and lay him down on his side. "Just checking on him."

"And he is...well?" the Arrancar almost seemed afraid to ask.

"He's fine, just sleepy."

"That is not new, but it is good news all the same. Again I am grateful to you."

"It's what I do." she replied in a humble manner as she stood up. "You can stay with him if you like."

Wrath seemed eager to take the offer, saying not another word. Unohana left the room, relaying the orders to remove the stitches to Isane before moving on to check the next patient only a few doors down. For a brief moment she considered the look on Wrath's face, how it resembled someone who had just lost their best friend, or had caught an unfaithful spouse.

The Shinigami wasn't at all surprised to see Ulquiorra standing there, one arm and his forehead pressed against the glass as he looked longingly into the room. No, she didn't know him by name, much less at all, but she knew the look on his face that seemed to pull his whole body towards the floor. She approached him, standing still beside him for a moment.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"I am not sure." he replied without looking at her. "I feel sick...yet I'm not ill."

"Sounds like heart ache."

Ulquiorra turned his head. "It aches on its own?"

"It can, yes. Tends to happen most often when our loved ones are in danger or pain."

"Indeed." and he turned to look through the glass again. _Loved ones...that word...could I use that?_

"I have a few things to check, but," she started with a casual sigh, "would you like to visit with her?"

"Could I?" he looked at the Soul Reaper again. With the permission given with a slight hand gesture, Ulquiorra pulled himself to stand straight and follow her into the room.

Somehow there was something startlingly more intense about seeing Orihime lying there without the invisible barrier of glass. Ulquiorra paused, his feet seeming stuck to the floor. He could here the monotonous beeping of the monitor keeping track of her heart beat. Why the steady _beep...beep...beep_ didn't drive anyone mad was beyond him. His stomach churned at the sight of tubes and needles in her arm, feeding her fragile body with antibiotics and pain killers. His knees threatened to give when he looked at her face, the white washed complexion and the hints of bruising and swelling the peeked out from under the bandages. A firm foam brace kept her neck straight, just in case there was an injury they hadn't seen. Ulquiorra felt the urge to vomit, biting it back as hard as he could.

Unohana worked in silence as she looked Orihime over, checking the bandages to see if there had been any more bleeding. The stitches held and the swelling had reduced considerably over the last two days, both very good signs of her gradual recovery. She happened to noticed the jade pendant around Orihime's neck, taking a short moment to glance at it. Yes, she nodded, very lucky indeed.

Unohana stood up, seeming finished. "Be sure to let someone know if she wakes."

"When will that be?" his eyes still full of sadness and its tremendous weight.

"Could be a few hours...could be a few days." she admitted with a hint of reluctance. "We just have to wait."

"I understand." naturally he sounded somewhat disappointed, but Unohana had expected that. She could imagine herself feeling the same way were she in his situation.

"Do you need anything?"

"No. Thank you."

With a nod she left, certain there were other places she needed to be.

Ulquiorra stood stock still for what seemed like quite a while. When he was finally able to move, he could only think to be at her side. Beside the bed was a chair that he pulled beneath him, his legs suddenly too weak to keep him up. He chanced to touch her, his hand shaking as if in fear of breaking something fragile. His hand circled her wrist and held it in a snug grip. He hunched forward and let his upper body lay against the bed. Ulquiorra's other hand slowly searched for something to hold, finding a few tresses of her hair to twist and curl between the fingers. There was a fresh pinching in his heart. God, would the pain ever end?

"My Onna," his voice squeaked out of his tightened throat. "My...love," the oh so taboo word was heavy in his mouth, heavy, but not unpleasant.

His eyes began to burn and he felt something hot and wet falling down his cheeks. With a sense of urgency or maybe even panic, he touched his face and found his palm was wet with warm, salty droplets. He grimaced and then wiped his palm dry on his shirt. Crying. He didn't want to cry, but he couldn't stop it once it started. Slow, one after another, tears fell without his consent. He was beginning to feel like a lost child, or at least what he would imagined it would feel like. Frightened, confused, uncertain, overwhelmed...and with no one to comfort him.

Finally, he realized, he had to admit it. To say it aloud. "I need you, Onna."

"He really does have a heart now, doesn't he?" Ranza asked in a hushed tone as he and Nel stood in the hallway looking in.

"Seems that way." Neliel sighed, her sympathy for Ulquiorra much more evident than Ranza's. "Poor guy."

"I bet he's miserable. Still...Mama-san said the prognosis was pretty good."

"We can hope." and then they moved on, now resuming their original intent to find Wrath. Ranza had just returned from his pow-wow with Yamamoto, and the old man was rather adamant that the loose Arrancar rumored to be lurking around the city needed to be found as soon as possible.

Of course they found her with Largo, cradling the little boy in her arms as he slept, appearing to be easily able to ignore his snoring. When they stepped into the room she lifted her head, looking at them with a slightly agitated expression.

"What do you want?" she asked, wanting to get directly to the point.

Ranza, for a moment, couldn't seem to find the words. Then, "We need you're help."

"I had guessed...otherwise you would not look for me."

"Could you help us find Dorian?" Nel was trying to be a little less demanding.

"Dorian...yes, that is his name," Wrath shook her head, thinking. "He is not in the city right now."

Nel and Ranza both showed their distress on their faces. "Where is he then?" Ranza chanced to ask.

"I do not know." she replied as if he should have known that already. "He left not too long ago...I have no doubt that he will be back."

"What we need to do is find a way to draw him out." Ranza scratched his chin.

"With what?" Nel looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Chicks." Gusano answered the ever eluding question. "Particularly of the naked variety."

"Shut up, grub,"

"He is right." Wrath corrected. "Lure him out with what he wants the most."

"How in the hell are we supposed to do that?" Ranza was probably more confused now than he was mere seconds ago. "I mean...shit," he couldn't find a place to even beginning thinking this through.

"Wet t-shirt contest?" the parasite suggested as he fought a giggle. "I know _I'd_ show up for that."

"How do we know he'll fall for something like that?" the Arrancar prince crossed his arms as he glared down at his leg.

"Well, considering that Dorian tends to think with his man parts over his brain," Wrath almost laughed, "I think it might be simple."

"That's a really good point." Nel smirked at Ranza. "We could get some of the captains to hide out nearby, wait for him to show up."

"How will we know it's him?" as if the doubting Thomas syndrome just wouldn't go away.

After a quiet moment, Wrath shrugged with a short shake of her head. "I guess I will go with you. I will pick him out."

"That's all well and good, not to sound ungrateful, but I seriously doubt anyone here would jump for joy for a wet t-shirt peep-show."

"What did I _just_ say?" Gusano sounded put-off. "Seriously?"

Wrath found it very curious when, after several quiet seconds, Neliel slapped her own forehead. Apparently that was a gesture meant to convey the suddenly appearance of an idea that should have been, under normal circumstances, painfully obvious.

"The photo shoot!" When Ranza and Wrath failed to follow, Nel explained, "The Women Shinigami Association is making a calendar as a fundraiser."

"How will that help?" Ranza asked.

"It's a swimsuit calendar."

"And when was _I_ going to be notified of this?" Squiddy asked.

Nel interrupted Ranza before he could say anything nasty. "It will be like sugar to flies."

"How in the hell are we supposed to convince a bunch of women to...you know...?"

"We'll just have to figure it out as we go." she shrugged her shoulders, unable to find a better answer than that.

Much to their surprise, within the next hour the Lady Shinigami Association as well as a vast majority of Seireitei's female populous had gathered in one of the many empty courtyards. A small few had shown up in uniform, while the rest, knowing well what this was about, came dressed to impress. Sure, by all sensibility only twelve or thirteen of them would get their picture in the calendar, but all of them seemed excited about their chances. Who'd have thought? Yumichika would take a good look at each one of them before making any decisions; he was taking the pictures after all.

"Hmm...no," he would mumble to himself in passing, looking each woman up and down. "No...no..._yes_...no...too short...too pale..." he shook his head again and again, seeming disappointed. "Ooh, yes...yes...no..."

Several other Shinigami stalked the walls around the courtyard as well as some of the surrounding alleys and rooftops. As to not draw any undue attention they were spread far apart, moving without purpose and pattern. With Soifon-taichou at the helm, they were rather confident of their chances to catch the Arrancar they were trying to bait. Nothing was going to sneak by her.

"W-why are you bringing me along, Fiera-san?" Hanataro found the gumption to ask. "I-I-I'm not good with sort of thing."

"Have you tried?" she turned her head to look at him as he sat atop her shoulders shaking.

"N-no, not really."

"Than how do you know?"

"Because I'm scared." no point in lying.

"What are you so scared of?"

"W-what if I mess up and someone get's hurt? What if _I_ get hurt?" his hands tightened on the white fur attached to her mask.

"Are you afraid of pain?"

"Yes."

"Considering what you do, you should not be." she held the Shinigami by his ankles as she jumped, landing steady on the roof surrounding the courtyard. When she set him down she continued with, "Pain is manageable. It only hurts for a little while and life is full of it. Once you accept it, you will stop being so afraid. Like your fear of falling. Stop worrying so much and you will find your footing."

Hanataro looked up at her and gave a heavy sigh. "You make it sound so simple, Fiera-san."

"You have courage, Osito, and as soon as you find it, it _will_ be simple. Until then you will stay close to me."

She had to be kidding, he thought. All there was in him were clumsy stumbles and nervous ticks. Then again...out of all his fellow Shinigami, he and a select few others dared get close to Fiera-san. Could that be something to say for his potential bravery? Maybe...

Fiera couldn't sense Lust anywhere, not right now. She took a sniff of the air, thinking maybe there would be a trace of him there, but no dice. With Hanataro as a second shadow she circled the courtyard, making not of all the Shinigami hiding below. By the looks of it, the south side was completely unmanned, so she thought that was the best place for her to be.

"So what do we do now?" Hanataro chanced to ask.

"We wait." she said as she took a seat.

"Oh. Okay."

She glanced up at him, smirking. He was suddenly so steady, not the usual fear and fidgeting. Perhaps it would hold.

"What's hangin', circle jerks?"

Wrath cringed and turned, seeing Grimmjow strolling down the arch of the roofs towards them. She never liked him, even before her mask was broken she couldn't stand him. He was cruel and inconsiderate, vulgarity not withstanding.

Without asking he planted his backside beside them, the bone on his face towards them, seeming more than content and resting his fist against his jaw to hold it up. The silence that followed was tense, and Hanataro found himself shifting his eyes between the two Arrancar, maybe expecting something bad to happen.

"Nice set up they got down there." he sighed.

Wrath shifted her eyes towards Grimmjow, lifting one eyebrow.

"The women," he elaborated when he noticed her expression. "Didn't think Soul Society had it so good."

She didn't comment. She didn't understand what in all the Soul Reapers were up to anyhow. What could she say?

"Come on," he leaned a little closer. "You'll talk to Ranza but not to me...what's the problem?Got your fur in a twist, or a touch of the PMS?"

"Don't talk to Fiera-san like that," Hanataro interjected. "It's pretty obvious she doesn't like you."

"You know I really hate squeaky mice, makes me want to eat them a lot quicker." Grimmjow narrowed his startling blue eyes at him, forcing the Soul Reaper to recoil a little.

"What do you want?" Fiera growled, her eyes flashing a little with her irritation.

"Just wanted to shoot the shit, scope some chicks. You know,"

"No I do not. But maybe you should do it elsewhere."

"Aw, come on, I was being civil until you're little buttnoid there started nipping at me."

"Get along with him or go away." she demanded with finality.

After a moment, perhaps to deliberate, Grimmjow sniffed, saying nothing else.

"Good." she nodded before looking up to Hanataro. "Very good." and then she continued to watch the goings on below, still not too sure what the hell was going on with all the scantily clad women. Honestly, what was it with the seemingly universal fixation with female anatomy in various stages of undress?

"This is ridiculous," Halibel couldn't help but roll her eyes, whispering to Starrk.

"It's not all that silly," he said. "Looks like fun."

"Please," she grimaced at him.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't." he snickered.

"I'm not a piece of meat, Coyote."

He laughed again, crossing his arms as he tilted his head back to look up. He turned his head when he felt a tiny flutter of spirit pressure, seeing Ranza walking up to him.

"Any sign of Lust yet?" he didn't sound hurried or concerned, just curious.

"Not so far. What about Wrath?"

"She's on her way right now, maybe she'll be able to pick him out. I'd imagine we're going to set the bait here shortly...keep your eyes open."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Starrk snickered, only to receive a firm elbow in his ribs from Halibel.

After Yumichika selected the beauties who would star in the calendar, Ranza hobbled up to the Shinigami and whispered something in his ear. With a nod, Yumichika gave consent to speak with the women. Ranza remembered a number of faces, but no names. He approached them and they seemed to almost shy away from him. Yeah, he was a man, and he didn't expect them to know he was spoken for, but they could at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I have need of your assistance. You see, there is a rogue Arrancar roaming Soul Society and we need help luring him into the open, which is where you will be of great help. He's a pervert and a complete horn dog and this is a prime opportunity to..."

"Yeah, yeah, we know exactly what's going on," Matsumoto grumbled. She sounded insulted. "You want to use us as bait. Really, how hard is it to find a single Arrancar?"

"Hard enough when this particular Arrancar is a shape shifter," Nel said. "We don't know where he is, or even who he is."

"So he could be you for all we know," Nanao said.

"I'm not so sure," Ranza said. "Since he digs women so much, I doubt he'd disguise himself as one. Make it harder for him to score unless some of you play for the other team." After meeting a barrage of confused looks, he muttered, "Never mind. The point is, if he's here, he's a guy."

"Do you think this Arrancar is stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap?" Soifon asked.

"If he thinks with his penis more than his brain then yes, I do. He won't be able to resist. Especially after you ladies turn on the high beams." Again, more confused looks. "You know, open fire? Stampede the sweater cows? Fluff the dirty pillows?"

"He wants you to flash your tits!" Ranza turned and saw Grimmjow sitting a few feet away, his head propped up on his left fist, grin splitting his face in two. "Come on, let's see 'em! I haven't got all day!"

"Are you serious?" Matsumoto asked. "In front of that perverted freak?"

"Hey," Grimmjow shouted, "perverted maybe, freaky maybe, freaky in bed definitely, but I am _not_ a perverted freak. But if it makes you feel any better, I _guess_ I could keep my hands where you can see them." He lifted his right hand and waved. "I'm spankin' it later, but for now, I'll keep a handle on it..." He paused and seemed to ponder a moment, his smile faltering. "That sounded better in my head."

Matsumoto was on the verge of objection when Yoruichi stepped in front of her. She wore a tight, royal purple bikini and had her hair tied back in a braid.

"I like this plan," she said. "I'm proud to be a part of it. Come on, ladies," she said to the other Shinigami. "Our duty is to protect Soul Society, and if exposing our greatest assets is the only way to do so, we should do so with pride and honor. Now, who's with me?" And with that she turned to face the crowd and pulled away her top.

Suffice to say the jaw of every man present dropped, except for maybe that jaws of Ranza, who had turned away to keep an eye out for Dorian. Him and the ever-humorless Kuchiki-taichou. Shortly after Yoruichi's little demonstration, Matsumoto unsheathed her weapons of mammarian distraction, followed by the rest of the women involved.

At the urging of Coyote, Halibel hissed to him, "Don't you dare look," and lifted her shirt as well.

Grimmjow walked casually among the women, slightly dazed as he took in slowly all the curves and jiggles.

"I don't know what's going on," he said quietly to himself, "but I want to join in." He chanced to see Ranza and Nel glancing around suspiciously, a squadron is Shinigami prepared to do something, what he didn't know, and a group of women exposing their breasts...

Whoa.

He had never seen such a beautiful collection of boobs in his life. He managed to catch a glimpse of Yoruichi and Halibel standing on either side of a busty, fair skinned red-head, and he felt his eyes widen. _Jesus...it's an Oreo that makes it's own milk..._

He would have continued gawking, coming up with other titty jokes if he hadn't seen something else that made him shudder: himself. It was an exact copy existing in the same time and space.

He stammered, trying to find words to describe seeing himself sitting not twenty feet away. It was about this time that everyone had taken notice of him. Ranza looked back and forth between the two Grimmjows before pointing at the one closest to the luscious display and said, "Hook him, book him, and cook him!" Grimmjow barely had time to raise an eyebrow before several dozen binding Kido flew at him and bound his arms to his sides, arm to arm, leg to leg, arm to leg, elbow to thigh, and every other possible combination until he looked to be a living yoga instruction manual with every technique smashed onto one page.

"That's a relief," Soifon said as the other women covered themselves again. "I'm glad it's over. Who would have guessed a pervert would disguise himself as a pervert? It's so obvious we would have never thought about it."

The unbound Grimmjow watched intently until every chest was clothed. He sighed, the show now over, then jumped down into the courtyard and walked over to Soifon.

"Yeah, fucking brilliant. Only one problem," Soifon looked at him, a wicked eyebrow raised. "He's not disguised as me. I'm disguised as him." He swung his arm back and brought his hand squarely onto Soifon's rump with a loud _SLAP_ before waggling his fingers at her.

"Tootles!" Lightning flashed in the woman's face and the Fake Grimmjow had vanished. Soifon's hair stood on end, static arching through it, a mixed look of shock, embarrassment, and disgust painted across her face.

After a few moments of silence, Nel was the first to break it. "Does that mean we snared the wrong one?"

"Of course you did, brain donor!" the real Grimmjow shouted. "Now get me the fuck out of this! You're squeezin' the boys!" Unohana walked over and with a simple wave of the hand, every Kido was dispelled.

"How?" Ranza said. "How did we screw up? We laid the perfect trap, with the perfect bait, and he was just sitting there the whole time! How could he resist? I'd half expected him to do a perfect double-gainer with a half twist into the first pair he laid his eyes on."

"I should have you know," Dorian's voice boomed from the sky, seemingly from every direction, "I'm an ass man!

Wrath couldn't believe it. How did she not know? That's impossible!

"Come, Osito," she snarled, grabbing the little Shinigami by the back of his collar and leaping onto the next roof top.

"Fiera-san, what are you doing?" he screamed.

"We must catch him."

"Surely you can do that without me!"

"Now is your chance," he didn't see her grinning. "Have courage!" and she hurled him with every ounce of strength she had in the direction she had felt Dorian flee. This way, he would get there sooner than she would.

Like a fish out of water Hanataro thrashed and writhed as he flew, screaming, over half of Seireitei. His eyes were shut, not daring to open them for fear of what he would see. Have courage, she said, bah! More like have a heart attack. Although, much to his surprise, he was able to calm himself after a few seconds, actually finding the gumption to open his eyes. Needless to say he didn't much care to see the city going by beneath him in a blur.

As all things eventually must, he began to lose altitude, descending towards the unforgiving pavement below. Convinced he was either going to splatter or be smeared across it, Hanataro shut his eyes again. Imagine his confusion when he crashed, not scraped, into something that was far less sturdy than concrete. It gave under his weight, forcing him to bounce until he came to a stop on his face.

Dorian just so happened to materialize in Hanataro's path, the Shinigami colliding with him. It knocked him pretty hard, his breath hard to catch as he tried to stand.

"Little snot," he coughed.

Hanataro scrambled to his feet, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears from the impact of his fall. He realized what he had hit and immediately panicked, patting his uniform for his Zanpakuto only to realize it was where it should be. He had forgotten it. Now what?

To the contrary of how he was feeling, scared shitless, he reacted to the Arrancar by putting up his fists and hardening his expression. Maybe, just maybe, he could muster the guts to hold him here until help could arrive.

Dorian smirked, his stunning blue eyes trained on the Soul Reaper. "You're serious? And what do you intend to do, bite my ankles?" he took a couple steps forward, his grin widening as the Shinigami took a hesitant step away. "Come on then, little one, give me your best shot." and he bent down, got real close, and put a finger to his own chin. He had time to play a little, no one would be fast enough to catch him this soon.

For a brief moment Hanataro wasn't exactly sure what to do. Any other person would have either run away or thrown a punch by now, but here he was with his thumb up his ass. How did he get in this mess?

"Well, shorty? What are you waiting for?"

Then it hit him. What _was_ he waiting for? No one was going to save his ass this time. He needed to save his own. With this he felt something come over him, a sudden urge that was heralded by the racing of his heart. His body moved without his permission, his fists flying forward. The blow took Dorian by surprise; he honestly didn't think the pipsqueak would do it. Pain shot through his head from his nose, his eyes crossing for a split second. Hanataro hit him again and again, harder each time. Well, by most standards it wasn't all that hard, but it was the thought that counted.

He couldn't explain it, he had no excuse for it, he just couldn't stop himself.

By the time anyone got there, Dorian was wrestling to get Hanataro off his back. The Shinigami almost had the Arrancar in a full-nelson, limbs locked, and biting him on the ear.

"Get the monkey off me!" he screamed. "He's mad I tell you!"

Soifon was able to pry him away just as Dorian was sealed with several powerful Kido. Hanataro probably would have gone for him again if someone hadn't grabbed him.

"Easy there, Cujo," Ranza held him fast, "you got him." He gave the Soul Reaper a firm shake, the motion seeming to level his temper.

"Oh...oh my," he looked incredibly surprised. "D-d-did I...did I do that?" he glanced back at Dorian, spying a few scratches and bite marks. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

"No regret." Wrath's shadow fell on him. "You did very well."

Ranza stepped aside as Fiera looked Hanataro over. Nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises, probably from his fall.

"Not so hard?" she asked with a tiny smirk.

Hanataro looked back at her, still looking to be in a minor state of shock. Finally he shook his head. "N-no. Not so hard."

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I've been suffering from writer's block again, as you can very well see from my shoddy literature. I kind of forced this one, which I'm sure you can tell. Anyway, I'm really going to try and push the fic forward with the next chapter, maybe having only a little bit more filler. I'm going to try for more Ulquihime and maybe some GrimmWrath. Yeah, I know, stupid pairing.

Also, there's an art contest for this fic at my DA page. Go here for the rules: .com

Have fun.


	21. Chapter 21

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"_Be careful how you enter and whom you trust. It's easy to get in, but don't be fooled." The Inferno: Canto V, verses 19, 20_

"How are you feeling today, Nii-sama?" Rukia asked as she knelt before her brother, setting before him a tray with a steaming tea pot and his medicine. He had come down with a respiratory infection because of Bordell's pests, all but banishing himself to his mansion until he was well.

"Much better, as you can see." he was out of bed for a change, so he was certainly making some progress.

"I am glad. Is there anything else I can do for you, Nii-sama?"

"Stay a while, Rukia, please. We do not visit nearly enough."

This came to her as a slight surprise, considering how solitary Byakuya was known to be. Still, she honored his request without a word, watching as he took his medicine and drank his tea.

Byakuya had taken notice to a certain...unease about his sister. It was subtle at first, much like it was now, but he had seen it grow. Without really watching he saw her fingers curling into her clothes, showing a form of discomfort, like she couldn't wait to leave. Why wouldn't she look at him?

"Rukia," he began after a moment. He didn't have to wait long for her to lift her head, showing he had her undivided attention. "I know what happened. Soifon-taichou told me."

Rukia felt her stomach do a somersault, her heart skipping a beat. She didn't let it show on her face, taking a quiet breath. "Please, Nii-sama, could we not discuss it?"

Byakuya found it all too clear how much shame she was trying to hide.

"I understand it is difficult for you, however," he paused to sip his tea, "I still have a question."

"What is it?"

"Why did you not come to me? I would have much preferred to hear it from you instead of another captain."

Rukia bit gently on her bottom lip, trying to put the words together in her head.

"Is it because you didn't wish for me to find out about you and Kurosaki?"

She felt the warmth of blood seep out of her face, looking up at him with a sense of mild terror.

"You assume I didn't know?" he smirked and gave a little laugh. "But, that aside for the moment,"

"Yes," she nodded, thinking back to his most previous question. "Well, to be entirely honest...you're not the most sympathetic man...and I know how you feel about Ichigo. I...was afraid."

"Hm." he lowered his head and took another sip. Considering her reply, he realized that they have never been the closest of siblings, so her feelings were rather well founded.

"I would not have blamed you, Rukia. I know you are competent enough to not be easily fooled; surely this Arrancar was something special, and that is all I will say on it. Although I wish you felt more welcome to me."

She didn't respond, she didn't know what she could say.

"Still, I have another question."

She lifted her eyebrows as if to give him silent permission.

"Is he taking care of you?"

Rukia could only assume he meant Ichigo. Who else could he even think of asking such a thing over?

"Y-yes, Nii-sama. As well as I have hoped."

"How long?"

"A while," her face was reddening and she tried to inch it away from him. "Two years almost."

"Hm." he sipped again, making Rukia stir as if impatient for the next question. "Does he intend to marry you at least?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her cheeks burning. "W-we haven't really...talked about that...n-not yet."

He slowly finished his tea, letting all of what she had said gather and coalesce in his head. When all of it had found its proper place, he set the tea cup down and pushed the tray aside.

"Come, sit beside me," he gestured with his hand.

Again Rukia found herself surprised, but still did as he asked without question. From the corner of her eye she watched him, watched as his normally stoic expression changed, actually showed some degree of emotion.

"May I ask a personal question?" as if they hadn't been personal enough already. "You may refuse me."

"No, Nii-sama, go ahead."

"Do you love each other?"

Rukia found it in her to look at him, seeing a warmth in his eyes that was such a rarity. "Yes, Nii-sama. I feel that we do."

He shrugged after a moment, the slightest wheeze in his breath. "Then I will not interfere. But, mark my words, if he should harm you in any way I will see to it that his end is slow and painful."

It was almost comforting to hear him make that threat. It was more like him.

_(–)_

Dorian sat in a cell for hours, glimmering in and out of sight as lightning in his attempts to escape. Of course there were wards and seals hidden all around the room, keeping him in. Not only was he frustrated, blatantly unhappy, but his ego was still reeling from that fierce blow it endured at the hands of that little twit. Who'd have thought someone so tiny could have such a massive pair?

He was leaning in the farthest corner, his arms crossed with a set of his fingers drumming his bicep when the cell door was opened and a Shinigami stepped inside. Surprisingly he was happy, what with it being a woman and all. It was the shortest one, the captain with the black hair tied back in two long tails, the one with the nasty temper.

"Nice to know I haven't been forgotten." he smirked.

"If it were up to me you would be." Soifon replied, her expression flat.

"Oh, that hurts. All that work to catch me just to toss me in a hole?" he shook his head. "Tisk, tisk."

"I'm not here to play grab-ass with you."

"But it would be so much fun, what with all the junk in my trunk. Not to say yours isn't nice too,"

She scowled with a hint of a blush across her cheeks. "I have questions, and you're going to give me answers."

"Or you'll _what_, little girl?" he dared. He was not afraid of her, and the grin on his lips showed it. "If you kill me, you're left with nothing, and I seriously doubt torture would work all that well. I have a tough hide and no bones for you to break. Maybe if you're nice to me...I suppose I'd be willing to share." and he lifted one eyebrow as if to project the intent of his words.

"You're an idiot."

"And you're an uptight cunt." he almost laugh at her slight recoil, as if she'd never heard that before. "If you ask me, a little slap and tickle would probably do you some good. That is," he suddenly to a small sniff of the air. "Is that a touch of the forbidden love on you?"

Soifon's expression abruptly changed, showing her dismay at his suggestion.

"No, wait...no, just a massive girl crush with a smidgeon of hero worship." he laughed.

She was beginning to think this might prove a little harder than she anticipated it to be.

Outside the cell a small gathering had formed. Yoruichi, Nel, Ranza, Hanataro, and Wrath were waiting, eager for Soifon to finish and give them some news. All of them had confidence in her abilities to extract anything Dorian had on his mind. She was just that good. Imagine their mutual surprise when she appeared some two hours later with a look of discouragement, shaking her head. Maybe she wasn't so good after all.

"He wouldn't stop talking about my ass," she shrugged with a tone bordering on angry. "among other things. I could get a damn useful word out of him."

"Let me try." Yoruichi straightened from leaning against the wall, quietly and casually shutting the cell door once she stepped inside.

Dorian lit up at the sight of the dark skinned woman, smiling wide enough to show his perfect teeth. "Well, look who it is, what a nice surprise. I was half expecting to see big sister here to whoop my ass. Back for round two?"

"We've never met."

"Oh I do believe we have." he was fighting the urge to laugh. "I remember you were just stepping out of the bathroom, in a white robe that just barely covered you." he drew his finger tips across his lips with a gentle sigh as if in fond recollection.

For a moment she wasn't sure what he was talking about, thinking he was just probably trying to rub her the wrong way. But then it clicked... if she was right, she'd only been one person that night.

"Where is Urahara?" she had no desire to, pardon the pun, pussy-foot around.

"Who? Oh, yes, the shopkeeper. I would imagine he's dead by now. I don't think the poor fellow went quickly either."

Outside they heard a heavy thud against the wall, but no other sound than that. Then another, and then another. This went on for a solid twenty minutes or more. They couldn't see inside the cell so the gods only knew what she was doing to him. They were actually beginning to worry, that is, until she finally came back out, rubbing her knuckles as if they were tender.

"I loosened his tongue for you."

"Where are you going, Yoruichi-san?" Nel asked with a hint of concern as Yoruichi continued down the hall.

"Somewhere else before I kill him."

Nel only lifted her eyebrows as a sign that she sensed the tension, and then slowly turned to look at Soifon. Deep down she hated it when Yoruichi did that, showed her up, but right now was not the time to be focused on petty peeves.

When the captain stepped inside the cell for the second time, she found the Arrancar on his knees. His skin was pocked with welts and already purple bruises, and blood was seeping out of his ears. There was no sign of his previous machismo, that oh-so-obnoxious and confident attitude. He was no trouble for her this time. He was almost glad to disclose anything she asked of him.

Dorian didn't know what Yoruichi had done to him, only that his body still throbbed with red hot sparks of pain. She had tossed him about the room, hurling him into walls. She'd jabbed him with her sharp tipped fingers, touching him in all the right places to make his joints lock up and his muscles seize. And she did it so fast, so hard. Normally he was game for a little rough play, but this was way beyond his comfort zone. He even tried his safe word which, needless to say, didn't work. Although even I can see an apparent flaw with having "ow" as a safe word. Whatever it was she did, it still hurt like a fresh wound. There was a time where he _wished_ Wrath had come instead.

"I honestly don't know why Ciego is doing it," Dorian said, a pitiful whine in his voice. "I just did what he told me to."

"What is he planning now?"

"I don't know. I don't report to him regularly, so I rarely hear anything. I would be willing to bet it's something ridiculously megalomaniacal and brash. I take it you're planning on going after him?"

"Naturally. Can you tell me of anyway we could do that without him knowing?"

"No. I've never spent much time in Las Noches. I know the front door, and where all the bedrooms are. Then there is the rear entrance that leads beneath the palace."

"How do we stop them?"

"If I were to venture a guess," he winced as he shifted on his knees, "I would go for their ego. In reality they are only half an Arrancar as individuals. So long as you can keep them at each other's throats they should be little trouble."

"What about guard detail?"

"It's still low since Bordell was here. Ciego lost almost half his guards. It will be perhaps another two weeks or more before he will start rebuilding it."

"So Las Noches is vulnerable?"

"I would chance a guess." he nodded slowly, the muscles in his neck too tight. "If you were to do anything, now would be the time to do it."

There was little more she needed to know other than that. With this ascertained, she had to carry out the rest of the order.

Dorian felt a pinch in his chest, something quick that occurred in the span of time it took for him to blink. He looked down to see a dark and ornate marking there, something that resembled a butterfly. The was a small pulse of spirit energy coming from it. When he looked up at the Shinigami he noticed the golden glimmer of a steely claw on one of her fingers. He wasn't sure what it was, but he had a feeling what it was for. He'd divulged the last of the information, now he had served his purpose. It was almost a relief as he was still in an almost mind-numbing amount of pain.

"Well," he shrugged, "I suppose I've lived a good afterlife. Shame though,"

Soifon looked down at him, curious.

"I've never kissed a woman without being in disguise. I always looked like someone else." he laughed a little bit. Then he looked up. "Care to grant a man his last request?"

Wrath felt the flux of reiatsu, felt it swell and then disappear completely, and then Soifon emerged once again a few seconds later. The Shinigami didn't appear to notice her there, the others having gone already.

"You killed him." Wrath stated.

Soifon stopped, not turning around or gesturing the intention to.

"Will you do the same to us," she asked, "once we are no longer of use to you?"

Soifon turned her head a hint. "If it were my choice I would have killed you all on sight, starting with you."

Wrath's expression tightened at the brow. "Why?"

A pause...then, "It is what I do." and she walked on without another word, making sure no one would see her touch her lips, still able to feel the lingering burn.

Fiera watched as the Shinigami soon disappeared, still showing an expression of slight confusion.

"Don't let it bother you, Fiera-san." Hanataro said softly. "Soifon-taichou is just that way."

"She hates us." it wasn't a question, more like an observation.

"That may be." he sighed as they began walking.

"We have done something wrong?"

"No, not necessarily. A lot of us here just don't...you know,"

"I believe so." she didn't sound very certain, but in the end she nodded, thinking it best not to think too much into it. It wouldn't change the state of things. "Do you feel that way, Osito?"

"Heaven's no," he laughed a little. "Well, not about all of you."

"Neither do I." she agreed as they stepped outside. It was later in the day now, the sky beginning to burn a bright orange.

Wrath did her best to banish thoughts of Dorian from her mind, not in the mood to dwell on her late brother. She bumped Hanataro's arm with her hand to garner his attention. She didn't mean to nearly knock him down.

"What are we doing tonight?" she asked. The last few weeks he'd been visiting her after dinner to do little things such as playing cards walking about the barracks.

"Oh-oh, yes, well," he began to stutter. "Actually, Fiera-san, I had plans."

"What does that mean?"

"I-um-you see there-uh-,"

"Spit it out."

"It's really kind of funny," he was giggling like an idiot now. "You see I...I took your advice and...well, there's this girl I've had a crush on for a long time and,"

"I think I understand. You wish to be with her?"

"Y-yes. I know that would leave you cooped up in your room all night,"

"It is fine." she nodded down to him. "You have been devoted in your duty. I do not think it would be right to keep you."

"So...I can go?"

"Of course you can. You do not have to answer to me after all. Go on, I will be fine on my own."

"Thank you, Fiera-san!" as tiny and frail as he was, Hanataro was able to make the jump required to hug the Arrancar about the neck. Part of her was afraid of crushing him so he would have to settle with a small smile and pat on the head before running off, happier than a pig in shit. A few moments later the grin faded and she shrugged, unsure what to think. Perhaps she just couldn't wrap her oh-so-simple head around certain things, the relations between men and women in particular.

With a brisk leap she ascended to the roofs, taking her time in walking the distance back to Fourth Squad. She watched all the Shinigami, just in passing, paying no particular attention. Though she suddenly desired the company of someone familiar; maybe she was just so used to having Hanataro around, that now with his absence she was...idle?

Wrath found herself lingering, crouching at the edges of the roofs to watch people pass oblivious beneath her.

Fiera ultimately decided that Shinigami were strange, puzzling creatures, more so than her fellow Arrancar. She couldn't pinpoint as to why. And she could only imagine what humans were like, yet to have the opportunity to consider one in person. Were they really all that different from Shinigami? She could recall very little from her time alive, that brief stint as a human herself, but could remember enough to know that humans were frail and powerless for the most part. But then there were those particular few, like the one that had helped Largo. Was that girl human? Considering what Fiera had seen of her in the OR, she would have to say yes.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Fiera didn't move, she could smell who it was, not to mention his reiatsu was a dead give away. "Nothing." she replied.

"That's what I thought," Grimmjow chuckled, his hands in his pockets as he stood over her.

"What do you want?"

"Got nowhere to be, nothing to do," he sat down, his uniform rustling. "Where's your tumor?"

She looked at him this time, her expression wrinkled in confusion.

"You're second shadow? You're buttnoid?" he lifted his brows as if it would help his elaboration.

Fiera recognized the word from earlier and scowled. "He is obviously not here."

"Shrugged you off, too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed how everyone tends to avoid you. Well, us in general."

"I do not care." she looked away from him, back at the people walking down the street.

"That grumbling suggests otherwise." he smirked. "Since when did you want _anyone _around anyway?"

"Not just anyone." she corrected. "I do not want you around."

"You gonna make me leave?"

"Not when I can leave more easily." and she stood, meaning to do just that.

"Damn, grumpy-ass," he shook his head. "Was it something I said?"

"No. Just being you is enough."

"Seriously, what's your problem?" he jumped to his feet and snatched her by the wrist. She quickly yanked away, glaring at him, her eyes shimmering with a lethal glint.

"_Do not touch me_," she snarled.

"Christ, sorry. I just wanted to talk,"

"_Now_ you wish to talk after you realize I speak and have breasts? Leave me alone!" and then she was gone in a puff of red smoke, leaving him trying to decide if he should feel pissed or embarrassed.

Fiera reappeared some several yards away, now on the ground. With purpose she skulked back to Fourth Squad, ignoring the cautionary stares and sidestepping of those she passed. Her hands clenched, her claws itching like they had a tendency to when she wanted to kill something; all the more reason to return to her room. She could feel hints of the anger coming back, a quickening heat to her blood, a raised pulse and throbbing around her fangs.

On her way back she appeared able to only notice things that served to trouble her more. She could hear that woman Yoruichi talking behind a door, the voices of others conversing back and forth. She picked out Ranza's voice, and Nel's. It sounded like they were planning to move on Hueco Mundo to find this Urahara everyone was going on about. She felt the hair on the back of her neck bristling as she continued on.

Fiera couldn't help but pause for a moment as she was just a few doors away from her room. Perhaps it was out of habit that she would look in on Largo, expecting him to be sleeping, but that wasn't the present case. He had company. It was the little, pink-haired Shinigami that was so much like him, and the motherly captain. The eldest Soul Reaper had a book in her hands, an object Wrath found momentarily curious, and the children appeared to be hanging on every word that she cited from it. As she watched, Fiera felt her heartbeat settle, the hairs on the back of her neck flatten. She wasn't sure how this was making her feel, but angry wasn't exactly it. After several minutes of going unnoticed Fiera moved on.

At last she was back in her room, standing still for several moments after shutting the door behind her.

Perhaps Grimmjow had been right, she considered. Just maybe. Though it didn't seem that people were avoiding her, not really. They simply had other things, better things to do. She could understand that; what good was she to anyone anyhow? She was, after all, only useful for one thing. But that was something she didn't want to admit but knew was at her very core and was, therefore, an unavoidable fact. All she could do was contemplate that fact as she sat on the bed, staring at the floor and rubbing her thumbs against her fingertips.

_(–)_

It felt like laying on a water bed, everything moving beneath her. It wasn't a pleasant sensation to be sure. Only one eye would open when she tried, the other refusing to obey. She wanted to turn her head but found herself unable to do that either. Instead she chanced to carefully sit up, her spine protesting with an aching tightness as she moved. She could feel the pressure of bandages and slowly reached up to touch them.

"Onna,"

It was tired, somewhat straining, but familiar voice. Once she had blinked her vision clear she found the mussed black hair, the fair skin, and the stunning green eyes that looked back at her. He looked terrible.

Before Orihime could get her first word out, Ulquiorra lurched forward and circled his arms around her, his head pressed against her chest. He wanted to hear her heartbeat, feel the gentle _thump-thump_. His breathing quickened, like a man saved from drowning. The only thing she could think to do was reciprocate, petting his hair as her arms settled across his back and shoulders.

"I was afraid." he forced out. "So afraid."

"You worried about me?" her voice was a little scratchy, her mouth dry.

"Stupid question." he protested, his expression pouting just before it softened again. "I want to leave here...take you home."

"Is home still there?" it was a pertinent question. "Is it safe?"

"I do not know."

She smiled and curled his hair around her fingers. "It's not like you to be so spontaneous."

"I have spent these last few days very troubled and confused. The only remedy I can consider is returning home." It was the truth. Home was where he felt secure, with her is how he felt safe.

He was so adorable, she thought, acting like this, like a lost puppy. She almost felt bad not having been aware enough to see it. Still, that was beside the point.

"We're going to be okay, Ulquiorra." she assured him.

"I will take your word." his reply came as a sigh, like he had suddenly settled. His grip didn't slacken at all, and they were quiet for a moment. It ended with Ulquiorra saying, "I was to notify someone when you woke."

"Could it wait? Just a little longer?" she asked, her tone somewhat child-like in its request.

"Very well." there was no objection, no excitement, just content.

"I had a lot of strange dreams." she noted in passing after a moment. "Although...Ulquiorra?"

"Hm?"

"Did you talk to me while I was sleeping? I could have sworn that I heard your voice."

Ulquiorra considered the question for a seemingly long time, his eyes half open and staring at the wall. He almost couldn't find it in him to answer.

"Yes. I did." he confessed finally. "It...helped me. Why?"

"Curious, really." she was, in reality, trying to decide if what she'd heard was true or not. "Nothing important."

"You're not being entirely truthful." he said, lifting his head. "What are you really thinking?"

"It's just," her face reddened slightly as she tried to turn away from him, wincing at the pain in her neck. "I thought I heard,"

"What?"

"I thought you said you loved me." she managed to get it out at last. "That you need me."

Ulquiorra let it loll about his head for a moment. Had he said that? Well, now that he thought about it... "And if I did?"

"First of all I would like to know if you meant it or not...you know...people tend to ramble when they're emotional." it was like she was suddenly getting shy.

He took a breath, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Perhaps I was troubled at the time, but even you can account that I do not ramble. So I believe it is safe to assume that what I said was genuine."

"Oh, okay then," she seemed a little lost for words, but not displeased. It certainly wasn't the most romantic confession she could've hoped for, but with it being Ulquiorra...

"Orihime," he took her hand in both of his, the gesture garnering her full attention. He used her name. "It's because of you that I'm here, and it is because of you that I choose to remain. Yes, there is still much about life that I do not understand, but I have confidence you will help me through it."

If she knew it wouldn't hurt she would've thrown herself at him and sucked his face off...so to speak.

Ulquiorra suddenly looked troubled. "Why are you crying? Are you not happy? I assumed you had,"

"No, no," she dismissed, laughing. "Sometimes people cry when they're happy."

"I see. I suppose I should call someone now?"

With reluctance Orihime agreed, knowing it was probably best. She couldn't much remember what happened to her to begin with, so the thought of someone being able to relay that back to her was actually somewhat comforting.

As the nurse looked her over some few minutes later, someone else walked into the open door. Both of them looked up to see the Arrancar Prince and Nel in his shadow.

"Oh, good to see you're awake," he said with a nod of greeting. "I'd stay and chat but we need to borrow Val Kilmer there for a while."

Ulquiorra couldn't help but wonder why no one around here seemed to find it fitting to use his name. "I will be back soon." he said as he stood.

_(–)_

"In three days we will move on Las Noches." Yamamoto announced. "I have chosen Captains Hitsugaya and Soifon to lead the operation."

"I'm sorry, Genryusai, but I can't wait that long." Yoruichi shook her head, trying not to sound rude but adamant.

"I understand your feelings, but at this point we must assume the worst. We must focus on the immediate threat. If we cannot conduct this assault as a team, we might as well not go in the first place."

She didn't like to hear it, but he was right all the same. Still...she hated it when he was right.

"Now to address the other matter at hand; if you Arrancar will not go to Hueco Mundo, I would expect that you remain here to defend the city if necessary."

"I'm going." Ranza volunteered directly, never mind the griping from his leg.

"So will we." Halibel added, adding her hand as well as Coyote's. Sure, he looked a little curious as to what just happened, but that was fairly typical for him.

"I will stay. I'm sure all I would do is get in your way." Ulquiorra seemed reluctant to admit his shortcomings. Largo would stay as well. He was only a child after all, and had no business in a place like Las Noches with Bordell still wandering about.

"I guess I'll go. Getting sick of this place anyhow." Grimmjow grumbled, rolling his eyes. Then, after a moment, Wrath stepped forward without a word but with clear intent to lend herself to the cause. With all able hands accounted for, Yamamoto gave them leave to discuss their strategy. Much like the last meeting, he held Hitsugaya back, wanting to speak with him in private once again.

"You spoke with Kurotsuchi-taichou?"

"Yes, Yamamoto-sotaichou."

"What did he say?"

"Everything should be ready within a few days, perhaps the end of next week at the latest." Toshiro sounded down, somewhat unwilling to deliver his message. "But it will be ready should it survive."

"Good, good. You understand it is simply too dangerous for something like that to roam about unchecked, uncontrolled?"

"Of course I do," he was looking deep down for his sense of resolve. "But is it really..."

"Out with it."

"Is it right?"

"It's the best for everyone. The needs of the many outweigh those of the few."

_(–)_

Fiera hadn't understood hardly a word that Soifon and Hitsugaya had said. All that nonsense about flanking and wheeling and blah-blah-blah. Why couldn't anyone seem to figure out how easy it would be just to plow through the front door? Then again, maybe that wouldn't have been the brightest idea...maybe it had been a good thing she hadn't said anything. Regardless, now it was late, dark outside, and she wanted to go to bed. She went to undress, the hakama having just enough time to pile up on the floor before she heard distinct tapping on her door. With an irritated huff she answered it, ripping the door open with her lips curled back so that her inconvenient visitor would see her displeasure clearly.

"Hey there, baby bear,"

Fiera scowled at Grimmjow with a red hot fury in her amber eyes. "The last person to call me that has remnants of his face scattered across me floor."

"Ah, I see," he didn't need to hear the hidden warning in that statement a second time. "What do I call you then?"

"Nothing. Go away." and she went to shut the door, finding that it wouldn't close for Grimmjow's hand. She only gave it a hard shove, remedying the problem and shutting his fingers between the wall and the door.

"Ow-ow-ow-_shit_!" when he yanked them free he stuck his fingers in his mouth, nursing the sharp pain. "Jesus Christ, woman, I just wanted to say I'm sorry!"

"You can say it from there, I hear you just fine."

"Can't I say it to you're face? I thought you chicks were hot for honest guys!" He put his forehead against the door. "Come on, let me in...I got nowhere else to go."

"Sleep on the roof for all I care."

"Damn it, what the hell did I ever do to you?" he protested, never imagining the response he would get.

Light cut through the dark hallway as the door reopened. Wrath lurched out and snatched her fellow Arrancar by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him inside, tossing him clear across the room and into the farthest wall. Before he could fully process what just occurred she was on him again. She grabbed him firmly by the jaw, her hands big enough for it to rest in the curl of her fingers.

"You _dare_ to ask me _that_?" her teeth gnashed when she spoke, a bit of foam forming at the edges of her mouth. In her head she could see the flashing polaroids, each of them clear as day of her first encounter with Grimmjow. Needless to say they were not pleasant. Unlike many of the other Espada, he had come to her forest all those years ago without the peer pressure, without the nudging. He came simply to see how much damage he could do.

Grimmjow looked back at her with a face tightened with discomfort, breathing was a bit of a chore with her hand gripping him so tightly. He remembered, but God only knows why he asked that. He was too impulsive for his own good at times.

"Sorry, sorry," he slurred, pulling himself up using her firm wrist as leverage. "Could you put me down, please?"

Well, she thought briefly, he did say please; she dropped him without care. "There is the door." and she jabbed a clawed finger at it to show him.

"Can't I stay just a while?" he was really pushing his luck.

"I do not want you here! Surely there is someone else who will be more accommodating."

"I tried that." he actually sounded a little sad having to admit no body wanted in on the kitty love. "Just for tonight?" he was damn near close to begging, and Grimmjow never begged...outside the bedroom.

Fiera glared at him, almost disgusted at the very sight of him there. Hating him was so very easy...but there was a tiny, hushed voice that told her to let it go. Why? Even she wasn't sure. Maybe...what if she did try to forgive him? She had been able to forgive Nel and Ranza...but that was different.

Out of sheer inability to resolve her personal conflict, she allowed her anger to peter out, and finally relented after a handful of deep breaths.

"Tonight." she said at last.

"Thanks." he brushed the wrinkles from his clothes and now had the air about him as if nothing had happened. "I don't think the bed will be big enough for us." he mentioned in passing. Even if he were to change into a cat it would be a tight fit.

"The floor is size enough for you."

"What, not in a sharing mood?" he tempted with a toothy grin, his arms crossed.

"No, I am not." she replied as she pulled the pillows and blanket off the bed and tossed them to the floor. "There. Goodnight."

"What, now? It's barely midnight," Grimmjow objected, sounding like a teenager.

"I am tired."

"Seriously I-,"

"Shut up!" she snapped at him just before turning out the light. "Stay awake if you must, but be quiet!" Fiera snatched the hakama up from the floor and draped it across her as she lay down with her back turned to him.

Grimmjow stood there stupidly for a moment or two, rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly put up with this crap just so he wouldn't have to sleep alone? Jesus, he _was_ desperate. Finally he kicked off his shoes and found the blanket and pillows in the dark to settle in. He laid there, uncomfortable, missing the soft plush of Orihime's breasts as he stared at the blackness looming over him. Had this really been worth it?

"I am sorry." Fiera's voice came softly, remorseful.

"What's that?" he'd heard her, he just wanted to hear it again.

"I said I am sorry." she repeated. "I should not have lost my temper."

He grinned to himself, smug. "It's all good, not like you hurt me or anything." Yeah, his neck was a little sore, but that's beside the point.

"You accept my apology?"

"Yeah, I guess."

There was a long moment of quiet, then, "Why did you come here? Honestly?"

It was a valid question. He didn't exactly try his damnedest to find a place to sleep. He could have easily turned into a cat and charmed his way into someone's lap. Still, she didn't need to know all that.

"Maybe I was just curious...or lonely. One or the other."

"Why me?"

"Dunno. Just a thought I suppose. I mean, Coyote and Halibel are bumpin' uglies, Ranza and Nel...Batman's with Madam tah-tah," all the while Fiera was making a very curious face, trying to imagine who in the fuck some of these people were. "Just seemed like the best choice, you know?"

"No. I don't."

"Alrighty then." he laughed a little.

"Could I ask another question?"

"Shoot."

"Huh?"

"Go ahead." he reiterated.

"What had you come to apologize for?"

"Oh that." Grimmjow paused a moment, having to think back to it. "Earlier. I guess I acted like a bit of a prick. But, then again, I'm really good at that."

"Hm. I did not like the attention you were giving me." Fiera was doing her best to explain something she didn't fully understand to begin with. "It angered me to think you only cared for my company because I no longer behaved so much like an animal."

"Hell, we're all animals."

"And that I happen to be female."

"Well, there is that. I'll admit I'm a sucker for the chicks."

"I have noticed that...especially the ones with large breasts."

"Oh yeah, dig the ballistics." he nodded, an erotic growl rumbling through him at the thought of...like I really have to tell you. "I'd probably dig yours too if you didn't hide 'em."

"I do not want you digging anything." there was a hint of a snarl in her voice. "Slut."

"Ha-ha!" there was genuine amusement in the sound. "Like I said, big gal, animals!"

Everything went quiet after the laughter died, almost long enough for Grimmjow to start dozing off.

Then, "Fiera."

"Huh?" he yanked himself out his half-sleep. "What was that?"

"My name. You may call me Fiera."

"Oh...alright then." and then he began to snore a few moments later.

Author's Note: Maybe two or three chapters more and it'll be done. Hope you enjoy this steaming pile as I poise to begin formulating another to accompany it. Hopefully this one didn't royally suck too much wind. The next one probably will. Oh well, see you there.


	22. Chapter 22

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"_Remember you're philosophy: the closer a thing comes to its perfection, more keen will be it's pleasure and pain." The Inferno: Canto VI, verse 106-108_

Orihime had the strength to stand today, finding it helped her mood to get up and walk around. Staying in bed so long was almost depressing. Gently she stretched before pushing herself onto her feet. Ulquiorra waited just beside her, ready to catch her should her stability waver.

"I'm okay," she assured him, taking the first few steps. She wasn't so much weak as she was fatigued. "See?"

"Yes, I see." He could see a slight wobble to her gait, but he didn't mention it. "I think you should still be resting."

"I'm tired of lying down." she protested. Which was actually quite true. One gets a bit sore lying on your back for so long. Not to mention she'd found some renewed vigor now that the neck brace was off. The muscles were tender and argumentative, but it was a small thing. "I want a bath." she sighed in passing.

"Should I call a nurse then?" Ulquiorra raised his head slightly.

"No," she then paused a moment, "would you come with me?"

His brow tightened in the middle, his cheeks showing a hint of pink. Still, he took her request in stride. "Very well. If that is what you want." he almost had a bad feeling about this agreement, feeling like he was headed face first into a trap of some kind. Maybe he was, but would it really be all that bad? It was Orihime after all; the thought of her consciously conducting a scheme of any nature was as preposterous as Kurosaki being a woman...ewww.

This wing of the barracks was serviced by a large was room, a line of shower stalls at the rear of the room, each divided by a wall of tiles just higher than your shoulders. It was easy to tell this was meant for patients from the steel bars and tiled benches in some of the stalls, for those who weren't quite well enough to stand on their own for very long.

Ulquiorra watched with mild curiosity as Orihime stood in front of one of the mirrors, her hands on the rim of the sink to hold herself up. She began unwinding the bandage around her neck and forehead, cringing at the angry wound and all the bruising around it as well as the purple darkness around her right eye.

"I bet it'll scar." she sighed. "Oh well."

"I have seen far worse." he had _done_ far worse in his time. Ulquiorra came behind her and inspected the wound. "The scar will not be very large...you could hide it with your hair."

"I suppose I could." she focused on his reflection in the mirror. "What do you think?"

Ulquiorra had a feeling what she was really trying to ask. Women tended to be quite sensitive about their physical appearance, so naturally Orihime would be considering that.

"I am glad this was the worst of it. Scars fade in time." It was his way of showing his lack of concern of how her looks had changed. All that mattered was that she was still around. In a strange way she found that assuring, comforting. She smiled at him in quiet gratitude, liking how he managed a small grin in return.

"Should I wait elsewhere?" he asked a moment later, handing her the towel that was once draped over his arm.

"You can stay. Just no peeking. I'll be sure to call if I need you."

"Very well. I will stay close by." and he quickly disappeared into one of the other empty stalls, sitting on the cold tile.

It was strange to feel tempted to watch Orihime undress, as well as the urge to smile about it. He folded his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs, wishing he had some paper to fold as the water began to run a couple stalls over. Out of curiosity he peered over the top of the partition, only able to see the top of her head and her hands when she reached up. He allowed his head to tip back, resting, and closed his eyes. He had slept much better last night than he had in the last few, but still felt the need to nap a little. The steady hiss of water hitting tile was almost soothing in it's lull.

He fought to keep his eyes open, the lids drifting lower and lower. Finally he just let them fall and slowly exhaled. A nap couldn't hurt. His head dipped to one side, his chin resting against his shoulder as his breathing leveled and became systematic in its rhythm. Then, perhaps ten minutes later;

"Ulquiorra,"

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. He stood in a swift snap of motion, the towel in his lap slumping to the floor. Thankfully he didn't slip on the tile as he made a dash for the stall Orihime was in. He found her holding on to the steel bar with both hands, her knees bent and her head down. She was naked, her skin reddened with the water's heat, and it took every ounce of his self control not to focus on that.

"What is wrong?"

"Dizzy...all of a sudden." she said, her voice breathy.

His face tightened with concern as he went to her, put an arm of support around her waist and put his other hand to the water. Never mind that his clothes were getting soaked.

"Silly woman, it's too hot." perhaps it was his way of scolding her. He turned the metal knobs just so, the temperature sinking a few degrees after a few seconds. "I cannot leave you alone for long, can I?"

"Is that a joke?" she laughed a little as she tried again to stand on her own.

Was it? "I am quite serious, though my question, I suppose, could be considered rhetorical."

She giggled again, turning so she was facing him, her palms against his chest. He looked down at her, his green eyes wide with uncertainty. He tried his best to only focus on her eyes, but that, he discovered, pulled on his heartstrings more heavily than even the beautiful red blush across her body or her bare and perky breasts pressed against him. When she turned her head to lay it against his chest, the top of her head touching his chin, all he could do was put his arms around her. No intent, only instinct.

"I'm a real bother, aren't I?"

Was that rhetorical too? "No." he replied, just in case it wasn't. He could feel the warmth pooling in his belly again, a faint tugging in his loins.

"You're too kind."

"Am I?"

"More than you give yourself credit for." she nuzzled her cheek against him, almost liking the faint scratch of wet cotton.

Ulquiorra gave a light shrug and closed his eyes. "You should go back to bed." he was looking for almost any reason to separate. If they didn't...oh God, the train wreck...

"Just a moment longer, please?"

"Onna," he groaned. He couldn't stop his hands from moving down the slope of her back, settling on her hips. "We can't,"

"Can't what? _You're_ the one trying to touch my butt." there was a hint of a laugh.

"And you have no clothes on. Who is the guilty party here?"

"We're not doing anything wrong, are we?" she looked up at him now, a smirk twisting the edge of her mouth upward.

"Wrong, no. Inappropriate, yes." he was beginning to wonder what had suddenly gotten into her. This behavior wasn't normal; maybe that blow to the head had been harder than everyone had initially assumed?

Imagine how the once steadily churning gears in his head that kept him thinking came to an abrupt halt, and that ever vital spring going _sproing_, when Orihime lifted herself steadily on her toes and kissed him full on the mouth. His breath staggered, his fingers clenched into her generous backside, and he growled into her mouth. No, no, no, he chanted in his head. This wasn't right, she was still so weak. But...she tasted so damn good.

Perhaps it was the near stifling heat, the shiver up his back from the splash of the water across his body, whatever it was, it spurred a hot spark of lust through him. Lust was an emotion he was not familiar with, but he knew it was in him now. He hungrily kissed her, his tongue delving and twisting against her own as his hands slid up and down her skin. Her flesh dimpled under his pressing fingertips, the light scratching of his nails. He pulled her closer, their hips crushed together.

"Onna," he groaned at the sensation of her teeth gently at his throat, his head falling back.

Ulquiorra felt his heart lurch when she grabbed his wrists, still kissing along his neck as she placed one of his palms against her breast. He pinched his bottom lip between his teeth, taking heavy breaths through his nose. His fingers flexed, kneading the soft swell with the tightened nipple in the crook of two fingers. He groaned again when she demanded his other hand between her legs.

"Don't be afraid," she whispered.

"I'm not," he gasped.

"Not what?"

Ulquiorra shook himself, blinking, suddenly realizing he wasn't where he thought he was. Everything was sideways and he didn't feel the firmness of tile beneath him. One arm was stuck under him and threatening to go numb.

Orihime smiled at his perplexed look. She laughed a little. "You were talking in your sleep."

There was a small streak of worry. "What did I say?"

"Nothing I could really make out." she shook her head.

He could tell her hair was wet, her skin slightly flushed. The bandage around her neck was still absent, the stitches and the bruises clearly visible. Had he really dreamed all of that? He sat up slowly, feeling very strange.

"Are you all right? You look a little feverish."

"I am fine. Just startled...I suppose." in reality he was. His sudden waking left him uneasy.

"I noticed you had fallen asleep," she said in passing as she sat on the edge of the bed. "I didn't have the heart to wake you. You looked so tired,"

"No, I understand. Thank you." never mind how he didn't exactly rest, and now he had an erection, but it was still something to be grateful for. "How are you feeling now?" he needed to change the subject.

"Fantastic," she threw her arms up in the air and straightened herself to lay flat on the bed. "Neck's a little stiff though."

"Give it more time, it will pass."

"I know, I guess I'm just being impatient." by the sounds of it her usual light spirit wasn't nearly as tarnished as her fragile body. "You enjoy your nap?"

"Hm?" he looked as if he'd just been pulled from deep thought. "I suppose."

"Doesn't look like it."

"I am still weary." he nodded. He wanted to return home, for life to be as it was, and to be left alone with Orihime.

"Come here," she said, holding up and arm and gesturing to him.

For a moment he wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but then it clicked. He stretched himself along her body, flush against her as his head lowered onto her shoulder. He felt her arm curl around his shoulders, her hand in his hair and twining it between her fingers. Her gentle, clean scent filled him and he was fast asleep in only a few minutes.

Orihime was surprised at how closely he allowed himself to nestle to her, but chose not to read too much into it. It was pretty clear, no matter how well he thought he was hiding it, that she was growing on him.

_(–)_

Grimmjow yawned and stretched as he sat in the grass in the sun. He put his hands behind his head as he leaned against the courtyard wall, watching Wrath play with Largo and Yachiru. He had nothing else better to do, so being lazy was at the top of his to-do list; it was better than being cooped up inside. It was actually kind of entertaining to watch Hanataro fidgeting around them like some mother hen telling them to be careful. Little squirt was certainly determined, albeit unsuccessful. Grimmjow laughed hard enough to nearly piss himself when Wrath grabbed him up and tossed him in the air, just for the sake of the kids smiling. Sure, she caught him every time, but it was still good for a chuckle or two.

He'd never guess in a thousand years that Wrath would be so good with kids. The little ones just seemed to gravitate towards her, which was easily one of the oddest things he'd ever seen. Her mother-bear behavior was actually kind of endearing.

Everything seemed all whipped cream and bikinis until Grimmjow felt the ripple of spirit energy heralding the appearance of that short shit Shinigami of a captain with the perpetual PMS. Just the sight of her gave him an uneasy feeling, like some serious shit was about to hit the fan. You know the feeling: when the jury comes back after too short a deliberation...that one.

Grimmjow watched, seemingly invisible in his corner. He noted the hard look on the Shinigami's face, heard the hissing cut of her voice as she told Yachiru to leave with Largo and Hanataro. This gave him a better idea as to what might be going down here.

"Why did you do that?" Wrath looked through narrow eyes at Soifon, seemingly unhappy that she had sent the children away.

"There will be time for babysitting later." Soifon replied, her arms crossed. "We have work to do."

"Do we? What?" Wrath was somewhat suspicious of her intent. If this "work" was in relation to what she thought, where were the others? Surely they would need to take part.

"I'm in charge of the assault on Las Noches, and if we want to have even a fighting chance, I need to know if I can count on you."

"How so?" Fiera tilted her head slightly sideways. "Even you can tell I would not side with my brother...but that is not what you mean, is it?" Again, simple, not stupid. "You are concerned," she considered the words for a moment. "You think I may turn on you? Go...rabid?"

"That's a good word for it." Soifon gave a curt nod.

Fiera shrugged after a moment, her mind briefly addressing many of the possible reasons why this would be of the Shinigami's immediate concerns. She picked the most cynical of the lot.

"You do not have to wait for me to give you an excuse,"

"Pardon?"

"If you wish to kill me so badly then do so. Why make such a face? Oh, yes, that's right, you still have a use for me, don't you?" Fiera laughed just a hint and with a tiny smirk, but otherwise she sounded tired and on the edges of saddened. "Just leave me be, there is no need for this." and she turned away from the Shinigami to leave.

Fiera didn't take three steps before she felt a small flicker of reiatsu, and then felt a sharp pain spike up her arm. Soifon was now in front of her, her zanpakuto drawn, and, when she looked, her right arm from the elbow down now lying on the ground and twitching. Without showing much discomfort the Arrancar bent down and retrieved her limb, pressing the bloodied end to its respective stump and holding there until it mended, all the while contemplating the scent of ashes and pepper that came from the congealed mist in the severed veins.

"If you wish to see me angry, this is a good start." she warned, her amber eyes shimmering, flexing her fingers as if to test them. "I will not play your game."

"I'm not playing."

Grimmjow watched with a mild tension, although nonetheless entertained by this great nonsense. The runt wouldn't stand a chance if Wrath would let her hair hang down, so to speak. He knew the Sin would just as soon tear the Shinigami's pretty little head right off her neck if she were in the right mood. Her lack of which surprised him. He'd heard rumors, even seen Wrath in action and how terrible she could be, but that was before her mask was fragmented a second time. What had it done, how had it changed her? She hadn't even put on her greaves, for pete's sake!

He was able to keep track of them in spite of how quickly Soifon blinked from place to place, chasing after the puffs of red smoke that seemed to draw further and further away across the top of the connected walls. That sharp prick in the air was starting to bug his nose and make his eyes water a little. Still, he stayed around a little longer in hopes of seeing Fiera lay the little lady flat.

Fiera didn't like this at all, bordering on hating it. This wasn't right, much less sensible. She didn't want to do this. She knew the Shinigami was trying to push her, force to snap her teeth like the stupid animal _all of them_ thought she was, any reason to put her down. The anger was there and wanted to be let out, that hot bubbling of piss and vinegar that made her skin redden and sanguine tears seep from the corners of her eyes. But she held it back, she had to, if for no one else's sake but her own. She could do it, she just had to try. Fiera kept her hands down, fingers loose, and the greaves stayed tucked in the yukata. She did her best to stay away, teleported from place to place as fast she could but to no avail.

"Fight back!" Soifon snapped, landing a hard, swift heel across Wrath's jaw just as the Arrancar reappeared. "I will kill you if you don't!" and Soifon turned the blade downward and pulled.

Wrath lifted her hand, catching the Shinigami's wrist in a tight, almost shattering grip. "You think I am afraid to _die_? Silly child." and then her head snapped back with force of the Shinigami's foot against her chin. She bit her tongue, tasted copper, and staggered back a few steps before losing her footing and falling to the ground at the foot of the wall. Soifon was quick to follow, blade still at the ready to deliver a most fearsome blow.

There was a loud chime, the sound of steel meeting steel. Soifon looked up to see the catty grin of the blue haired Arrancar she had never noticed to be there. He had drawn his sword and stayed her own.

"That's enough, I think you've made your point." Grimmjow's cerulean eyes had a mad glee about them, a tiny twinkle, but his expression was a flat one.

"Stay out of this, you fool,"

"Maybe you didn't hear me," and he pressed his weight against her, forcing her nearly off balance. "That's _enough_."

Soifon grimaced. "Learn your place, Arr-,"

"What's going on here?"

Everyone's head yanked around. There was both Captains Unohana and Hitsugaya, along with Isane and a rather resolute looking Hanataro. Unohana's normally so serene face was tightened and fierce, making everyone appear to step back and lower their arms.

"The Arrancar attacked me," Soifon stated firmly as she sheathed her sword.

"That's a goddamned lie!" Grimmjow snarled, also withdrawing his weapon to its saya.

Unohana raised one hand and stopped the shouting. "Soifon-taichou, what started all this?"

"I was trying to have a discussion with this one," she gestured a hand to Wrath who just now getting back up, blood still staining around her mouth from her wounded tongue.

Before she could continue, Unohana interrupted, "So why did you send Hanataro away if that was all it was? You _do_ know I assigned him as the Arrancar's escort?"

"Yes, but,"

"That privileges him to be in the Arrancar's company regardless any amount of privacy you or anyone else demands." she interrupted again.

"I know, but,"

"So what was so damn important that you would interfere with his orders?"

Soifon felt herself swallow, any argument she would pose disappearing before it even formed. Just...that _look_, it made her question just what the hell she was doing here to begin with. Had she really been this stupid? She suddenly curtailed her ego, figuratively showing her belly.

"Excuse me, Unohana-taichou, I...it was just a simple misunderstanding."

"That's what I thought," and the older captain was smiling again.

Soifon quickly left the courtyard after that, retreating to her quarters. She mentally berated herself for her behavior, still curious as to what drove her to do it. Maybe her overall disdain for Arrancar was getting the better of her?

"I warned you. That was not a very smart thing to do." there was a hushed voice from the corner. "You're lucky she was so docile."

Soifon sniffed as a reply, showing her frustration. "If that's all you've got to say then you should get back in your hidey-hole."

"I should anyhow, someone is coming."

Soifon turned towards her door and could see Hitsugaya's silhouette outside the paper slide. She waited for his typically moderate knock before allowing him entry.

"What were you thinking?" he began immediately. "We have an agreement!"

"And you actually believe the words of those creatures?" she retaliated.

"You know I don't, but I certainly hold tight to the faith that we would keep ours. They could all up and desert us if we're not careful."

"What's the problem? They're bound to stab us in the back as it is."

"That may be, but at least we're prepared for _that_. We may not like it, but we need them...at the very least until we're inside Las Noches."

Soifon chewed on her bottom lip, feeling the need to squeeze something until it popped. Maybe someone's head...

"Look," Hitsugaya shrugged, thinking it would do little good to press the matter much further. "Just...stay away from the big one, alright? If nothing else, it's one of our biggest advantages against the other Arrancar."

"I understand, Toshiro," she half-snapped. "Now please leave me alone."

When he was gone she put her hands to her face as if to hide in them. With the other captain long gone, the entity that had been hiding in the corner reappeared, stepping only partly out of the mild shadow, and put its hands on her shoulders.

"I was stupid."

"No, no, no," the whisper came. "Maybe misdirected. Perhaps you need something more constructive to give your attention to?"

"Such as?" her hands fell to her sides as she turned her head.

"Telling you would ruin the surprise. I'd have to show you."

Soifon knew this was a deadly game, an even dumber move than the one she blundered moments ago. This could ruin her career...but...

"Very well. Show me." then there was a hand on her breast, the other sinking towards the junction of her thighs, and the gentle pull into the shadows.

"Why didn't you say anything, Fiera-san?" Hanataro asked as he and the Arrancar walked. Wrath wanted to return to her room, get away from all these people.

"Nothing would have changed." she replied, still trying to wipe away the blood from around her mouth. "Truth is as valuable as the effect it has."

"I suppose you're right. But,"

"Never mind it, Osito, I do not want to talk about it now."

"All right."

"But I am very...proud of you. I think it must have taken some courage to do what you did."

"Oh no," he laughed, his cheeks going a little pink. "Just doing what I'm good at, running."

Fiera laughed quietly. "Give yourself a little credit."

"Well, maybe," he relented to stroke his ego a bit. "But it's only because of what you said."

She smiled at him in a motherly way. "It is nice to know I am capable of doing some good."

"Now who needs to give themselves some credit?" Hanataro jabbed gently.

"Hey, big gal, wait up."

Wrath rolled her eyes, taking half a step closer to Hanataro as she could hear Grimmjow's heavy steps closing in from behind her.

"Some excitement, huh?" he laughed, his wayward arm taking the liberty of draping over Wrath's shoulders.

"Hands off," she growled, almost going so far as to snap at him to make him comply.

"Yup, sorry," he obeyed. "What was that all about anyway?"

"What do you care? I did not ask you to get involved."

"Hey, nobody deserves to get bullied around by these uptight faggots, certainly not one of us. You could start off with a 'thank you'."

"You did me no kind gesture, cat."

"You mean you actually _wanted_ Captain Cabbage Patch to rip you a structurally superfluous new asshole?"

"That is not what I mean."

"No, I get it, you're just a little shy. You'll warm up to me eventually." he folded his hands behind his head, seeming more than content to spout absolute bullshit from his own mouth.

"You're so full of yourself." Hanataro chimed in, his expression rather tough.

"Hush up, squirt, before I use your bed for a litter box."

Hanataro's courage failed and the color in his face faded a little. He didn't even want to think about the kind of mess that could possibly be.

They continued on, walking in silence, and when it didn't look like Grimmjow was going to leave just because they ignored him,

"I saw that other captain speaking with you. What did she say?"

Grimmjow lifted his eyebrows, looking pleased that she'd willingly addressed him. "Nothing too important. Gave me a little pat on the ass for standing up for you like that." by the sounds of it, any contact involving his backside was a positive thing.

"Knowing that you mostly stand up for yourself...yes, I guess that is something to be...praised." Fiera sounded suspicious, but also had trouble finding the words.

"Stopped hating me then?"

"No."

"Just checking," as if he had expectations of that changing sometime soon.

Fiera slid her eyes towards him, glaring, still so confused at his behavior. Didn't he have somewhere else to be, someone else to bother? Why was he constantly looking for her, seemingly stalking?

"Go away," she demanded with a low growl of warning.

"Make me." he smirked, somehow knowing she wouldn't, but pleasantly surprised when she only shoved him, making him laugh.

When they reached the door to Fiera's room Hanataro waited a brief moment. "Will you be all right, Fiera-san? With him I mean."

The Arrancar felt warm and fuzzy inside at the Shinigami's concern. "Thank you for looking after me, Osito, but I will be fine." she pat the top of his head. "Will you being going out again tonight?"

"A-actually yeah," he started laughing and blushing again.

"Then I hope you have a good time. I will see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course. I will bring Yachiru-sotaichou and Largo so we can play cards."

"I would like that very much, Osito."

And with a nod the little Soul Reaper was gone, disappearing around a corner. Grimmjow watched him go, all the while shaking his head. When he turned to follow Fiera into her room his face met the door just as it shut. He rolled his eyes, groaning.

"Can I come in?" he grumbled.

"One night. We agreed."

"Can't we agree on one more?"

"For the Sexta Espada, you really like to whine."

He smiled, his fist against the door. "You don't get to the top just by kicking ass. It helps if you gotta big prick, too."

"But I thought _you were_ the big prick?" and then she laughed. More like giggled. Giggled?

"None bigger than me, baby b-...baby." Smooth.

"I have no doubt." and the door opened, Grimmjow finding a more fierce expression than he had expected. "You may stay...for now."

"Sweet." after stepping inside he made himself right at home, plopping down on the bed with his usual shit eating grin and his legs crossed.

Fiera thought about it over the next several quiet minutes, and could find no explanation as to why she decided to let him in. Was she tired of hearing him bitch and moan? Did she feel the need to show some generosity, if for no other reason than to try and change her own mind of what she was? Or was she actually lonely, like he had confessed last night? Or could it be that strange thing called curiosity?

"What's wrong?" Grimmjow leaned to the side, noticing how Wrath just stood there, staring at the doorknob.

"Thinking." she replied, turning and walking across the room to stand in front of the window.

"I get the feeling you do that a lot." he actually sounded somewhat introspective for a change.

"Yes...from time to time. Mostly how it is I came to be here...how I can get back home."

"Home?"

"I guess you could call it that. There is not much left of it from what I have been told. Still...it is all I have."

"Hm." Grimmjow leaned back, his hands behind his head as he lay down. "Never really belonged anywhere myself. Well...didn't like staying put much either...got the urge to wander too much."

"I am not surprised...Las Noches will do that."

"You lived there at one time, right?" he lifted his head, one brow arched.

"Yes, for a while." her tone suggested this was something she didn't want to deeply discuss. "Grimmjow?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you...remember anything from when you were alive?"

He thought about it a moment, a little surprised by the question. "Nah, not really. What, you do?"

She nodded quietly, stoic. Fiera cautiously shared bits and pieces with him, feeling the need to enlighten Grimmjow a little. He was shockingly quiet, not interrupting with a question or a raunchy comment even when she took long pauses between one sentence and the next. He just, or at least appeared to, listen. He didn't even fall asleep out of boredom.

"That's one hell of a memory you've got there, big gal." he shook his head when she finished. "I don't think any of us were able to go back that far."

"My brother can. Forced himself to, thought it made him special." she commented in reference to Pride. A long pause, then...

"I never wanted this. Any of this."

"What do you mean?" Grimmjow found it in him to stand up.

"I did not want to come here, to stay...I do not want things to be this way."

"I don't think any of us want things just the way they are."

She knew that wasn't true. She had the idea that Ranza was fairly happy with the state of things. He certainly didn't hate it, but he wasn't tucked away in a cage, everyone looking at him sideways, either. But, on the other hand, before she came here, she wasn't exactly of the mind to distinguish good from bad very well. Things were easily ten times more complicated now that she could think about it, feel it out. Was life like this for normal people, for her fellow Arrancar; just a mess of thoughts and troubling emotions running through you and changing every minute?

"I do not want to be like this. I do not want to be what _that man_ made me." her fingers curled, tearing at the wooden windowsill and her teeth clenched.

"We are what we are." Grimmjow leaned against the undamaged part of the window frame, just next to her. "Although I'll admit you're fooling the kids pretty well."

Her amber eyes flashed as she snapped her head towards him. "I am not trying to trick them!"

"Okay, maybe not," he corrected himself. "But you're not exactly being honest either."

She could feel the anger bubbling up, felt the restlessness in her hands and feet, knuckles popping as fingers flexed.

"I bet things would be easier for you if you just accept what you are...stop trying to cover it up so everyone will like you." he wasn't trying to be hurtful, but he wasn't going to candy coat it.

She was about to argue his point, but found he was actually quite right. She put her tongue between her teeth and pressed down on it.

"I'm sure you hate it, but you're an animal just like me...just like all of us. But that's what Aizen wanted," he watched as she recoiled at the sound of his name, saw the red tint blossoming across her skin. "He wanted a bunch of obedient pets and that's what he got...except for you."

The anger died and was replaced with confusion, and the look she gave him showed it.

"Think about it a minute. The others he ditched because he couldn't use them for one reason or another. But he couldn't _tame you_. That is, unless the rumors I've heard aren't true."

No, they were true. Shamefully true, every single one of them.

"If you weren't just like you are, you'd be no better than the rest of us...just another one of Aizen's broken toys."

She was no toy, she was a weapon, there was never any question to that. But he did have a point, as much as she didn't want to believe it. Still...

"I hate what I am." she said with a tangible, bitter hiss. The anger was back. "I hate that everyone thinks I am just some stupid savage, an angry beast that needs to be put away. _I hate it_!" she slammed her fists, taking out a large chunk of the windowsill. Grimmjow's brow lifted, Wrath's suddenly display of her name sake taking him aback.

"Like they could if they wanted to." his tone suddenly shifted from rational to encouraging. So unlike him, right?

That wasn't the point, she thought. There was no phobia in her of death, but the idea that some wished to bring it on her head for the simple fact that she was made filled her with such rage.

"Besides, who gives a rat's wriggly ass what everyone else thinks? Just be comfortable in your own skin...tell everyone else to suck dick. I know it's tough to do, but in the end it's all that matters."

Wrath straightened. "And what do you think?"

"Doesn't matter." he repeated, his arms crossing as he put his shoulder against the wall.

"I am...curious."

"Well..." he shifted onto his back. "I guess...I suppose you and I got a lot in common."

"Hmph," it was sort of a laugh, like she couldn't believe a word of it.

"Come on, I'm being serious." he almost sounded hurt. "But, you know, it's like everyone just assumes they know us by looking at us."

"Everyone thinks you are an asshole because you act like one." she observed.

"And you're no saint either. You try and hide but you suck at it."

"It sounds like you have been watching me." When he didn't answer yes or no it only served to inflate her suspicion. "Why?"

"Simple curiosity."

"Not lonely anymore?"

_I didn't say that._ But he only laughed to himself. Sure, maybe big cats were solitary by nature, but most men weren't.

"You are so odd." Fiera shook her head, unable to understand him in the slightest. Were all men this much of a puzzle?

"Almost as odd as you."

"Stop turning my words on me."

"Don't like that? Sorry, call it a habit."

Now he was apologizing? What was he playing at, was this even a game? She could remember him being the playful type, in a sadistic sort of way, but this was throwing her for a bit of loop. Which wasn't all that hard really.

She wasn't far off base. Grimmjow could tell by the tightness in her forehead that she was trying to read him. He liked messing with people, jerking them around, it was fun. On his good days, once he found his angle, he could either convince or irritate the living shit out of anyone into doing something; mostly he used it when he needed a good lay. Sure, maybe it wasn't fair doing it to her, but he didn't like to play fair. Still, for someone so primitive she was holding her own better than most. Hell, she probably didn't even know about things like that. But it wasn't like he could go jonesing to anyone else.

"I think you should leave." She said finally. She'd had enough with the mental games.

"But we were really starting to bond there. Okay," he smiled in his usual way as he sauntered towards the door. "Maybe I'll be back later to bug you some more."

"If that is all you want then do not come back." she warned.

"You love it." and then he left without another word.

Her mind still buzzing with unanswered questions, Fiera remained by the window, her thumbs rubbing her fingertips like before.

_(II)_

Ciego looked gravely at the unpleasant surprise that Ptolomaea had dropped on the floor at the foot of his throne. It was half of the decapitated head of what looked to be some sort of demon. It was red skinned, covered in all sorts of horns and spines, and one large tusk coming from its bottom row of teeth. It smelled something awful.

"Were there many?" Ciego asked with his hand in his beard.

The Fraccion nodded slowly, only once, as he knelt before his master.

"Did you kill all of them?"

A shake for 'no'.

"Some of them ran I take it?" he curled the end of his beard in his fingers. "Are there more?"

He nodded again, making a gesture with both hands to show there were many, many more.

"So," he shrugged with a low growl. "Hell is knocking at my back door. And so soon. I suppose we can suspect our other neighbors to come calling as well. Where are they coming from?"

Ptolomaea pointed in the direction of the southwest. A gate must have materialized out there somewhere.

After a moment he stopped fiddling with his facial hair and sent his Fraccion away. Then he stood, stretching before he stepped down and began walking out of the large chamber.

Without any great hurry he strolled through the halls and down into the bowels of the fortress, down into the prison. Bordell's putrid odor penetrated the place, making everything seem almost yellowish where they were once bone white. Eventually he found his brother standing over the crumpled form of the shopkeeper, still alive somehow.

"You haven't sucked him dry yet? I'm shocked at your control." Ciego chuckled, his thick arms crossing.

"I can only take a little at a time." Bordell turned, coming into the light. His wounds from the fight with Wrath were now covered in puss-filled sores that mocked the shapes of the injuries. It was his way of healing. Once the sores burst and the scabs fell off, there would be something resembling fresh skin underneath. It was a slow, painful process. "What is is you want now?"

"Nothing in particular. Ever eaten a demon?"

Bordell grinned a little, half of his face sagging. "Not in a long, long spell. Why, are you offering?"

"Hah! If I were a demon I wouldn't need the whole useless lot of you to get anything done. But I've heard there is a detachment of them southwest of here, quite a few in fact."

"You heard that? How delightful." he sounded genuinely happy, well, at least as happy as someone like him could sound.

All the while Urahara was listening, just lingering between awake and asleep. He wasn't sure if he was hearing correctly or if it was the fever screwing with him; something about demons and gateways...was that it? Were they talking about that stupid little trinket that got him in this god forsaken mess? That didn't make any sense. No way that thing could be that powerful. Sure, even he could sense something was going on, changing for the worst, but there was no chance it was over that jewel. He was starting to wish he'd never seen the damn thing. If he ever got out of this place, the first thing he planned to do was destroy it.

That is, if he _could_ get out of here.

Azar was hard at work in his room, tinkering with this and that, thinking of something completely aside from what his hands were doing. His hands were molding a golden sphere into shape while his mind pondered still the suggestion the automaton had made some week or so ago, maybe longer.

Could they take on Ciego together and win? It was a possibility. Ciego played very tough, although not entirely unfounded, but it was still just playing. And even so, there was still more to it than that. The three of them fed off one another for power, how would that relationship be effected if one of them were to die? Would that strength be forever gone? Not only that, but could he really trust the machine? It was looking more and more like the dead king every day, and while that finally solidified in his mind that it was indeed his soul inhabiting it, it made him question that much more his sincerity to share the power once they had it. Was it even worth that kind of risk? The King of Hueco Mundo didn't carry much clout outside of the palace, and with the way things are headed, it was likely to be a dangerous title with Hell pounding at the front door.

What was a man to do?

"You're troubled." the machine whirred.

"Clearly," he replied without deviating from his work.

"Still considering my offer?"

"As if I had anything else to occupy me."

"So what's taking so long for you to decide? It's a simple yes or no."

"No, it isn't simple," Azar firmly argued. "Too many details to give attention to."

"Indeed, you're right. Perhaps if we brought another into the fold?"

"No, that wouldn't do. Everyone in this whole damn death trap is loyal to Ciego, willing to rip out their own insides for him."

"What of that nasty thing that lives in the basement?"

"He has no allies, only people who fear him more or less than others. I don't trust him anyway."

"Your sister?"

"Sweet gods, no," he cringed. "She couldn't get Ciego's cock out of her mouth long enough to tell us yes or no."

This made Barigan laugh, or whirr and rattle to be more particular. "So it will just be you and I? Damn shame."

Azar almost agreed with him, but that paused. His eyes grew a little wide, gleaming with the light bulb that just flickered on among his many jumble and rushing thoughts.

"That may not be entirely accurate." He said with a slight hesitation but no lack of certainty. "I have an idea. You may not like it entirely, but it's better than nothing."

"Very well, I'm listening."

_(III)_

"So you're not coming with us?" Ranza asked from where he sat at the foot of his bed.

"No." Nel replied, setting her sword aside and pulling off her sandals. "I feel like I should stay."

"That's fine," _although I hate the thought of leaving you here._ "Can I ask why?"

"Just seems like my place. Besides, if things get real bad, Largo will need someone he knows, someone who'll keep him safe."

"You honestly think Mama-san would let something bad happen to him? If she couldn't, Captain Kibble could look out for him."

"Oh I know, but it's like I said, if it gets _real_ bad." she reiterated, then she paused, her expression darkening. "I've heard demons are coming for Seireitei."

"Nothing they can't handle, I'm sure. Surely nothing a match for you." he smiled at her.

"Straight out of Hell? Can't say I've dealt with anything like that before."

"I bet demons are pretty predictable,"

"Yeah, rape, pillage, and plunder," Gusano added from his hole.

"Nothing like us Arrancar, right?"

"That I don't doubt." she didn't mean it the way he did. It was actually kind of scary to consider what they really could be up against.

Ranza gestured for her to come closer, his arms open until she came to stand in front of him. He embraced her about the waist, his cheek against her belly.

"I'll hurry back," he said, "help you whoop some ass."

"That'd be nice." she laughed, her fingers twining in his fiery hair. "The mighty desert pirate and his army of misfits come to save poor little me."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll just haul you off and have my lusty way with you." his laugh came more as a pleased, eager sort of rumble in his chest.

"I like where this is going." Gusano hissed, his bulbous yellow eyes poking out from behind the kneecap. "I wanna watch."

"You get the water bucket under the bed." Ranza said.

"Oh no you don't! I'm part of this relationship too!"

"Hush, worm, me and the lady are having a moment."

"Don't be so greedy, Ranza," Nel scolded gently. "A little cuddle won't hurt anything, will it?"

Ranza lifted his head and gawked at her, only looking away to see the worm inching up his shoulder and giving him a sloppy salute with his bright pink tongue as he found his way up Neliel's arm.

"You're such a doll," he chirped, nuzzling along the curve of her neck. Yes, he felt slimy, gross at the least, but she tolerated it with a smile. She went so far as to pet his chin with the tip of one finger, his tongue poking out past his gums.

"I can see why you keep this to yourself." the parasite cooed. "Oh yeah, sweety, right there."

"Okay, that's enough," Ranza grumbled. "Back in the leg," he reached up and snatched the little grub and put him back where he belonged, never mind how much he complained.

"You're so mean." Nel feigned a frown.

"Gimme a break; you're in love with me, not him."

"But I like you both." she explained, her hands on his cheeks.

"But you like me more, right?"

"Not more, just differently."

"I guess I'll be satisfied with that."

The sticky, yucky, cootie factor was off the charts, the cuddling having resumed, that was until the sound of keening laughter and running feet in the hall outside pulled the needle across the Barry White record.

"Was that who I think it was?" Ranza wondered aloud into her belly.

"Most likely." Nel shook her head. "Grimmjow never could stay out of trouble."

"I think he does it because he's bored."

"No, I think it's because he likes being an obnoxious dick-hole."

"Where's he been all this time anyway? I almost never see him skulking around like he normally does." When Nel didn't say anything he looked up, noticing her expression, the one she usually had when she knew something but didn't want to say it.

"What is it?" he asked knowingly.

"Well," she hesitated. "Rumor mill says she's been with Wrath. He even stayed in her room last night."

His eyes widened. "..._what_? Please tell me you're kidding."

"It's just a rumor." she tried to assure him. "It's probably nothing. If she did let him in, I bet it was only so she could beat him up."

He thought about it a moment, considered the sheer absurdity of the rumor, and decided Nel's explanation was by far the easier thing to swallow. He nodded his head, telling himself she was right, it was just a rumor.

Right?

Wrath wasn't very happy when she heard someone knocking on her door after the sun went down. With a low growl she went to the door and turned the knob, jerking it open only a hair.

"Said I'd be back." Grimmjow peaked into the sliver of light, by the sounds of it his mouth was full. "Wanna cookie?"

Her keen senses picked on something sweet. She pulled the door a little wider to see what it was he had. "Where did you get them?"

"Jacked them off of Tiny Twat just before I pissed in her tea pot."

"Are you _trying_ to give us more trouble?"

"No, just cookies."

She shrugged. "Fine." and then let him in spite of her better judgment. She followed the small plate in his hand as he walked passed her, the distinct aroma of chocolate too much to ignore. The snacks were dark colored discs of decadence only a little smaller than the saucer they sat piled atop. She snatched one with her claws and didn't hesitate to take a bite. The acidic half bitter, half sweet flavor made her smile.

"Thought you'd like it." he shoved another of the treats in his mouth. "Did you miss me?"

"If you keep this up, I may start." she came to sit on the bed next to him.

"Well, aren't we feeling gracious tonight?" he lifted one eyebrow and smirked at her. "I'm flattered."

She didn't comment, only continued chewing.

"I see you got all the blood off." he mentioned after he swallowed. "Speaking of which, you feeling okay?"

"I am fine. It only hurts for a moment."

"You heal pretty fast, I noticed."

"Yes." she nodded as she snatched another cookie. "It is how I was made."

"Just grows back then? Why'd you pick up your arm so fast then?"

"I do not know for sure, but I fear that there might have been two of me had I let it be."

"Really? Twisted." to think Aizen actually made something capable of duplicating itself like that was quite unsettling. He changed the subject. "Sorry if I pissed you off earlier."

Again with the apologizing. "I was not angry with you."

"But you _were_ angry. I pushed your buttons, admit it, I could tell."

"Could you?"

"Yeah. Could smell it," he tapped the side of his nose with his finger. "Like ashes and pepper."

"Most do not notice it unless the mist is there."

"Most people don't have senses like mine." he bragged, snapping the last cookie in two and handing her half of it.

"Can you smell it now?"

"No. You're pretty mellow." he sniffed the air. "There's a hint of cinnamon though."

Cinnamon? Really? She'd never noticed it before. But who goes around smelling themselves anyway?

"Cinnamon's my favorite." he sighed, the sound bordering on a sensual purr.

She was wary of the sentence, suspicious he might be playing his games again. Of course she was right, he was toying with her some more, but he wasn't about to let that show.

"I thought it would be what they call catnip."

He laughed. "Nah. Gives me the munchies, that's about it. But cinnamon...hmm, just makes me feel all warm and cozy."

Warm and cozy? What did that feel like? Was it anything like a roaring fire in the dead of night, or sleeping under the stars on the night of the full moon?

Grimmjow looked at her, a quick glance, and noticed the tightness of her brow, the depth of pondering in her eyes that darkened the normally vibrant gold.

"This whole damn shit storm has got you pretty messed up, doesn't it?"

"I suppose. Yes...I often find myself confused. It is...difficult sometimes...I do not really have anyone to explain things to me. Not even Osito can help me much."

Grimmjow found himself in listening mode again, just like earlier.

"Anymore, all I know for certain is I do not want to be..._this_," she gestured her hands towards herself, "but I do not know what else I can be. Even if I did, I would not know how."

When it appeared she had finished, Grimmjow chanced to inch a little closer. "Sounds like you just need someone to hang out with, a bosom buddy." and she had a lot of room for one of those by what he could see. Her body was pretty nice, he thought in passing. Sturdy, sleek, looked like it could handle a rough night or two in bed. With a sadistic fondness Grimmjow reminisced to some of his other conquests, how they couldn't really take him with any genuine confidence. He figured she could...if she didn't break him first.

"Maybe." Fiera said after a moment. "Do you know someone?"

"Aw, baby, that hurts," he cringed, his palm at his chest like a man who'd been shot. "You saying you don't want me around?"

Her expression showed her lack of being impressed by his feigned injury. Yes, she'd voiced her dislike for his company before, but...

"You are offering your time?" she expected him to say no, her eyes narrowed at him.

"I could be, but only if you want it." he set the saucer down on the floor before lounging back to rest on his elbow, his gaze on her in anticipation of her answer.

"Why would you want to do that?" it was a fair question, though it was one she had been asking him quite a bit lately.

"Hell, everybody needs somebody, right? I got nobody, you got nobody, so why not hang together?"

"Misery loves company," she nodded, leaning back and mimicking his pose on the bed. "Very well. If you will listen, I will speak."

"Cool, same for me too, right?"

"It is only fair."

"Nice," with his trademark smile he lay flat on his back, bouncing a little.

It was quiet for a long while. Strange to think how two people who had just agreed to share thoughts and feelings with one another would suddenly have nothing to say. It was easily ten or more minutes before there was another word.

"Tell me," Grimmjow started, his voice somewhat softer than normal. "When you were alive...what did you want to do?"

"Hm?"

"You know, what did you want to be? Mortals get jobs and things like that."

"I see." she thought about it, sorted out her thoughts. "I guess...my mother was a dancer. I remember watching her for hours and hours. She looked so beautiful, so free...that is what I wanted."

"Huh. Not exactly built for that now, are you?"

"No," she shook her head, a breathy, sad laughing coming out of her mouth. "But I was then. I was actually quite small, more like my Osito."

"That tiny? Damn, you filled out."

She ignored that last part. "What about you?"

"I don't remember. Well, there was a time when I used to hear music in my sleep. Went on for a while and then it went away. Maybe I was a musician."

"My father was." Fiera was on her back now, staring intently at the ceiling as if to count any cracks or cobwebs that might have been there. "Not a very good one. Maybe...maybe that was why he was always so angry."

"No excuse to treat people the way he did."

"I never understood him." she shook her head. "He would be so bad, awful until mother would force him out. A day or so would pass before he came back, bringing mother flowers...claiming he had changed. Never did. He would be okay for a day or two and then...all over again."

"Mother didn't sound to bright if you ask me. Couldn't get over the goo-goo eyes to save her own kid. And I thought I was scum."

"Mother...she was lonely, I guess. At least that is what I recall her saying. I could see it in her...because I saw it in myself."

Grimmjow turned his head. "Life's tough when you can't talk."

"Not so much that...but no one to speak for me." she then turned her head, their eyes meeting for a brief moment.

Grimmjow found himself dwelling on the gold. "Your eyes always that color?"

"No. They were once dark, like my father's. My hair was too. I was not so pale."

He let the picture form in his head, his imagination filling in any blank spots, lots and lots of filling. He saw a Spanish beauty with passion and flare, but with no voice and a lot of introverted pain and trapped thoughts.

"Bet you were cute." was all he managed to say. His playful side wasn't feeling so strong all of a sudden, replaced by something a little more genuine, more serious.

Fiera thought she felt a light blush come across her face, forcing her head to turn back to look at the ceiling.

Grimmjow took a deep breath through his nose, finding the scent of cinnamon becoming stronger. At least she wasn't starting to get mad. Maybe he'd found the angle he'd been looking for?

"Come on, don't be shy, we're really getting somewhere." he shifted onto one elbow, now able to look her in the face without her having to look back at him. "I know what you're problem is."

"Do you?" she huffed in disbelief.

"You have really, _really_ shitty self-esteem." all the while saying this he was smiling.

Her brow flattened like a board. "You think?"

"Yeah, I do." he started laughing now, realizing that he'd just made an obvious observation. "I mean...damn, woman, there's gotta be _something_ you like about yourself."

She considered the idea for a while, thinking it from end to end. Fiera didn't like her larger-than-life stature, but she could tolerate the immense strength that came with it. She did enjoy how children tended to flock towards her for company or shelter. But with deeper thought, she found that those were traits that fulfilled _other's_ needs, not really her own. So what was there?

When she came up with nothing, she only shook her head.

"I call bullshit." he tossed back his head with a sniff, and a second later he jack knifed off of the bed to his feet. "Stand up, woman, let's see if we can't find something."

She gave him a curious, uncertain stare before doing as he asked. She stood as she normally would, slightly hunched at the shoulders and knees bent.

"Straighten up, will ya?"

She snapped upright, watching him as he started to circle. She had absolutely no idea what he was looking for, but he was looking awful closely for it. When he stood before her again he had a hand at his chin, his brow tightened fiercely in the middle.

"Well?" she asked.

"You've got a rockin' bod there, big gal." he stated in a matter of fact way.

"Is _that_ all you were doing?" she was starting to get a bit flustered. Her patience was becoming suddenly perilously thin.

"No, no, just getting a closer look."

"There is much more to this than my body." she assured him firmly.

He giggled, like she'd said something funny, but it was a joke only he knew. But the amusement was short as the smell of ash was hinting in the air.

"You really need to get a hold on that anger, baby."

"It is difficult with you."

"Why?"

"Men irritate me." it was the honest to God truth. They were such trying creatures!

"How come?"

She bit her lip, fighting the urge to bear her fangs so he would stop asking such stupid questions. "They have done nothing but bring me harm."

"That so? Yeah, okay, I get that." he thought about it and thought about it, and then, "Can I try something?"

Suspicion darkened her features, but she gave him hesitant permission in the end. She didn't blink, her eyes training on his hand, his claws as it drew near to her face. She flinched when the calloused pads of his fingers came in contact with her cheek, shying away.

"Hold still now," he encouraged, staying the course until he held her cheek in his palm. He waited a moment. "How's that feel?"

"Strange," she didn't like the way it made her heart flutter, how her face heated up. "Stop it."

"Okay, okay." he withdrew. "Now you try."

"What?"

"Go ahead." and he tilted his head to present the side of his face that didn't sport his mask fragment.

Somehow unable to find adequate courage, she quickly touched him, a brush of the hand, and then brought it back to her side.

"Oh no you don't, no half-ass," he reached and grabbed her wrist, forcing her hand to his face. He held it there in spite of how badly she seemed to want to pull back again. "Chill out, it's okay, see?

A strange thing occurred a few seconds later, very strange indeed. He slowly loosened his grip, released his hold, and when he hand was away, Fiera's stayed in place. She couldn't explain why, but she didn't _want_ to end whatever it was they had begun.

Grimmjow could sense some of the tension lifting, could see the tightened muscles in her face relaxing. It was when her breathing leveled that he tried to touch her again, same way as before. A few more seconds passed, a new wave of discomfort sorted out, and then he tried something else. With his hand still on her face he took two steps forward. He was fascinated with her reaction, how her eyes fixed on him so gravely and so full of vulnerability. She really was an animal, a feral stray just looking for a way back home, for something familiar. But then he thought...

..._Am I any different?_

Fiera didn't like where this was going, little alarms were going off in her head telling her to stop this. But something else was being equally insistent that she continue, to ride this new wave all the way, never mind where it was headed. There was a spark of panic, forcing her to do the only thing instinct would allow. Disappear.

Grimmjow felt the tiny flicker of reiatsu just before the puff of smoke. He squinted and held his breath, his hand floating in the crimson smoke as he stepped forward again, finding that Fiera would reappear once again in front of him.

_He's still here_. Why hadn't she moved further away? Why didn't the mist carry her farther?

"You're not one to run, baby." he purred. Purred? "Don't start now. No good comes of it." the mist faded and he was able to open his eyes and breathe again. The his hand joined the other on her opposite cheek and pulled.

Fiera's hands began to lift to shove him away but stopped in mid-transit. Her heart pounded, she could feel her skin starting to heat with the mist, but certainly not the rage that normally fueled the reaction. She felt the need to bite but couldn't as Grimmjow's mouth was in the way. The panic didn't go away, but the little alarms did. Something lower than her stomach, around where her Hollow's emptiness was, was a tugging she'd never ever felt before. It wasn't painful, but so odd she couldn't ignore it. She finally managed the step backwards and was able to capture breath normally again.

"What was that? You did not tell me you were going to do that!" she protested.

"You can't always announce what you feel you gotta do, and that was a kiss." he explained smugly, the grin of a wine-o on his mouth.

She's seen it before in passing and in many forms, but never experienced it for herself. Why would anyone willingly go through something so unsettling, so...

"Could...I wish to do that again."

"I'm right here. Give it a try." he offered, lowering his hands and letting them hang outward in a form of surrender.

It was a rough and clumsy thing for her to do. At first she just pressed her lips against his and froze, but when his lips began to shift against her own she found the courage to, at the very least, try and copy his motions. The comfort came and went, and then eventually settled with the steadily growing confidence.

"You like that then?" Grimmjow asked, still seeming so proud of himself.

"I...s-suppose." Fiera groped. "What...is there more?"

"Oh yeah, lots more." he nodded, feeling this close to the climax of his game and loving every second. "Would you like me to show you?"

Fiera had the feeling that she needed to take great care in how she answered, lest something catastrophic was to happen. Could she trust the cat? Could she trust herself not to do him harm by mistake or intent? What on earth were they doing, anyway?

"Out with it, baby." his tone was hushed, sultry, and the tips of his fangs showed when he said "baby". His eyes were half-lidded and trained solely on her.

Finally, before she swallowed her own tongue. "Show me."

"You sure? Weird shit happens when I get my way." he cautioned as he carefully circled her waist with his arms.

"I...think I understand. But...how is it done...whatever this is?"

"Oh it's real easy," he rested his head against her shoulder, taking in the cinnamon. "Just do what you feel, especially if it feels good."

No one heard all the growling and snarling and shouting from the Quarantine Ward that night, amazingly enough. It came and went, grew and faded in frequency and intensity, until it finally stopped some time just before dawn.

The flux of spirit pressure in that room was enough to shatter the light bulb in the ceiling and crack both of the large windows, the glass now sporting frozen bolts of transparent lightning and crystalline spiderwebs.

Author's Note: Life is odd and unpredictable, just like this god-awful hot mess I'm trying to peddle to you people. But I will say this, if you like it, that's all well and good. But if you don't, feel free to keep the flames and nonsensical bull-shit posturing to yourselves.

This chapter is full of filler, but it was necessary. I wanted to try and broaden Fiera's character, make her a little more, so to say, human, almost loveable. Next chapter will have a little filler in it also, but then it's straight to the plot. See you then!


	23. Chapter 23

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty-three**

"_I found myself upon the brink of grief's abysmal valley that collects the thunderings of endless cries." The inferno: Canto IV, verse 7-9_

Fiera steadily woke, her eyes opening into slits at first, wandering and unfocused. She felt a gentle tingle all over, but it seemed to focus in her fingers. She gently moved the digits, curled and uncurled, finding them somewhat unresponsive. She made them into fists and then stretched the fingers out.

It was morning now. The night had felt so long, she thought. Polaroids flashed in ethereal brilliance in her mind alongside the recall of scents and sounds, the strange sensations she endured throughout the course of the dark hours. It had been so strange, surreal, confusing even in the good moments; not there had been bad ones, just some less trying than others. A shiver went up her back and down her legs at the memories of hair pulling, snarling and scratching, and biting. There had been an almost violent playfulness to their...what to call it..._session_. It was something neither one of them appeared able to help. She could clearly remember her heart rate spiking at times, the throbbing in her claws and fangs unbearable until she used them somehow, to bite or claw at herself or something else. Grimmjow showed signs of the same reaction, but it came and went.

_"Fiera,"_ she heard that distant, purring whisper in her head. _"Come on baby, let's do it again."_

Grimmjow had said that as they lay together in the darkness, he pressing up behind her, stroking his clawed fingers along her side with his renewed erection tucked against her buttocks. She hadn't answered him, even as he kissed along the curve of her neck, cupping the swell of one breast as the other hand pulled one leg away from the other. She didn't answer, but she didn't protest. He would coax her, encourage her softly or with a snarl, but she would go with it, never mind her usual disdain for him.

Had she enjoyed it? I'm sure everyone would like to know that, herself included. To be completely honest she wasn't all that sure. Don't get me wrong, she knew about sex, knew how it worked and why it was done (for humans anyway), but it was still her first time and she found it to be unsettling. Something felt amiss...misplaced perhaps. Maybe what boggled her most was the emotional toll this was taking.

There were many reasons why creatures chose to mate; natural instinct with the need to reproduce, affection, sheer desire, simple attraction or curiosity, or that ever elusive thing called love. What reason had Grimmjow wanted to mate with her? Why had she let him, not once, but three times in a single night? Three opportunities to change her mind or to ask him why. Good gods, was that pleasure? Was that what it did to everyone, just rip away all awareness and replace it was a thrashing, swirling zenith of sweet disaster? Had it been sweet? That hard spasm in her womb was something akin to pain, something she understood, but at the same time a completely different thing. The first time it happened she had clung to him, overwhelmed with the sensation of flying into pieces...

And he had held on.

So confusing.

Almost cat-like she curled her body to stretch, her chest down and head tilted back. With that done she pulled her legs beneath her to sit upright. With the upward bend of her wrist she wiped the sleep out of her eyes and then blinked until her vision cleared. This is when she noticed the rust colored stains all over her hands. Just a light sniff made her remember it was blood, half congealed and somewhat sticky. She found it spattered and smeared all over the now tattered sheets. Then there was the cracked windows and the glass slivers in the middle of the floor from the broken light bulb. There was also blood on the wall, the spatter resembling something being pressed there. What on earth had happened last night? What else had she missed while...you know.

She looked down at her hands and frowned. _"Even if I try,"_ she sighed. _"All my hands are good for is drawing blood."_ Then she stood with the intent to dress.

Grimmjow was still sleeping, the sheets twisted around his waist with the rest of him sprawling all across the mattress. The sound coming out of him as he breathed resembled an amalgamation of a snore and a purr. Whatever it was, it was a definite sign that he was sleeping rather soundly. All over his naked body you could see bruises, bites and deep scratches that were to the bone when they were made, but now resembled young scars, bright pink and puckered with swelling.

Shortly after Fiera stood up, his foot jerked and he snorted, rolling onto his stomach just before opening his eyes. He yawned with a dramatic stretch of his whole form, his toes and fingers curling, his lips pulled back to show his pretty fangs. He then flopped back onto the bed, looking around as he purred with each quiet breath.

"Hey, baby," he said gruffly, "what are you doing up? Come on back to bed."

"I do not want to. I am tired of lying down." she replied, pulling the yukata onto her shoulders.

"Okay, okay," he nodded. Gently he sat up, feeling the sore tightness in his skin. He then stood, the sheets untangling, and walked up behind her to put his hands on her hips.

Fiera stopped what she was doing for a moment, her eyes moving towards him, but never looking at him. His breath was so hot she could feel it through the yukata against her back, his brow pressing at the base of her neck. He nuzzled against her back, his hands snaking about her waist.

"What's wrong, baby girl? Tell Grimm-kitty what's going on." the purring radiated from his chest, making her whole body tremble. That hot spark in her belly was coming back and there was something prodding the back of her thigh.

She couldn't even begin to know how to explain what she was feeling right now. "I think," she said finally, "I think I need some time alone."

"Yeah? You sure?" he really didn't want to go, but that didn't much matter considering she would probably throw him out if he didn't leave on his own.

"Yes."

"Alright then, sure," he nodded reluctantly. "Can I come back later?"

"I...suppose. Yes."

"Good. How about just before it gets dark, will that be long enough?"

Fiera nodded, suddenly unable to speak as her throat had tightened.

Grimmjow took a last, deep sniff of her before letting go, now beginning to pick up his clothes. Dressing was a little difficult, every time he moved it pulled on a tender wound, but all the while he grinned about it.

It would be a lie if he said he hadn't had fun last night. It was actually quite the surprise to him that Fiera had been so...capable. He'd been expecting the all-too-typical protests; "it's too big", or "not so rough", but she was a real trooper and seemed up for anything he suggested. Perhaps the most awkward moment out of the entire night was the first time her entered her. The look in her eyes, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She looked down where their bodies fused and then back up at him, amber eyes wide and full of awe and uncertainty. But she didn't say a word. The look she gave him sent a shiver down his back, but only served to spur his lust in the end.

Most of the women he had been with during his rather long life had been pretty docile, almost fragile compared to Fiera. Everything he gave she returned in kind. When he tugged on her hair, or nipped at her ear, she would give it back to him. They had cut each other, but she healed so fast that there was no evidence of it. Still, she almost appeared to get off on the pain like he did, he loved the sting of her claws, the pierce of her fangs. Needless to say he was in to the crazy, rough fucking. Yeah, so what if he was a freaky-deaky masochist? She didn't mind. She was game for almost anything, even round two. Her body took it without complaint.

But there was more to it than just the pain, just the sex.

The taste of her, the smell, drove him bat-shit crazy. The sex got primal once Fiera got into the groove of it. The scent of cinnamon was damn near lethal, it was literally leeching out of her pores, tinting her flesh bright red. It got on his skin, his tongue with the hot twang of fresh ginger, and it overwhelmed him. It made him want her again and again, spiking his heart rate and making him snarl as his cock hardened even more. Sweet gods, it was even in her kiss, which she was very good at by the way.

Although this situation was still odd. It was a rare occasion when the woman wanted him to leave the morning after. Normally they were all for cuddling and post-fuck chit-chat. But not her, she wanted him to scram and give her some space. Well, there was a first time for everything.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked in a rare show of insecurity.

"No." she answered rather quickly. "I...I need to think this over. That is all."

"Can't I help?"

"I want to be alone." her voice was firmer this time.

"Just making sure." he put up his hands in surrender. "I'll be back later then."

Ranza was coming down the hall at a steady pace, no real hurry or intent to get anywhere. He wasn't wandering, but there just wasn't a rush. He'd heard a rumor of something happening between SoyJoy and Wrath and it concerned him a little. Obviously it was nothing grave as they were all still living and not a grease stain floating about a non-existent cosmos. Still, he needed to know what happened, if everything was okay. Too many rumors were floating around for his liking, it would be nice to have one of them dispelled.

But that wasn't bothering him enough, what he saw when he rounded the corner would.

Ranza couldn't help but pause when he spotted Grimmjow practically strutting out of Wrath's room, a grin from ear to ear and covered in what looked to be scratches and bruises.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ranza grinned knowingly. Looked like Wrath really whipped his ass.

"Like the new trophies, huh? Pretty sweet," Grimmjow swaggered, pulling aside one lapel of his shirt to show a particularly nasty scratch. "That woman's something else."

"Bet she really laid it on you."

"You ain't kidding. But I hope you're not looking to take your turn, she isn't in a visiting mood."

He processed that last bit and thought about it. Wait a minute... "Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Well what are you talking about?"

"Didn't she just beat the shit out you?" Ranza could feel his heart sinking suddenly.

"No," Grimmjow cocked up one eyebrow. "We just did the wild mambo three ways from side-ways and had one hell of a time doing it."

Ranza's countenance flashed from worry to unbridled disgust. "You did what?"

"What's the problem, man, pissed I beat you to it?"

"That is my _mother_!" he shouted.

Grimmjow made a face. "...huh?" That couldn't be true. Arrancar couldn't pop out kids.

Ranza couldn't think, didn't know what to think if he could. Even Gusano had nothing to say in spite of this seemingly prime opportunity. "Long story," he finally choked out. "You stay away from her, you hear me?"

"Since when was it up to you?" Grimmjow crossed his arms, his head tilted back. "She's a big girl, you know."

"That's not the point and you know it." he jabbed an accusatory finger at the feline. "She doesn't know the kind of person you are."

"I think she does now." Grimmjow snickered.

"Enough with the jokes! She doesn't understand what you're up to, but I do." Ranza grimaced hard. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"I don't need your warnings, little boy. Just like she doesn't need your pseudo-molly coddling."

"If you hurt her, Grimmjow,"

"You'll what? Look, you may be the prince, but I don't answer to any-damn-body. I do as I please, and so does she."

"Ranza,"

Both men turned their heads to see Wrath standing half out of her door. Ranza glared up at Grimmjow who was easily half a head taller than himself.

"We'll finish this later." he promised.

"Suck my dick."

Without another word Ranza went to Wrath, curious as to what she wanted. Anything to keep his mind off that blue-haired asshole.

"Morning, Wrath," his tone had leveled out, the angry adrenaline out of him.

"What is it you wanted?" she asked, seeming eager to hurry this along so he would leave.

"I just," he paused a moment, feeling that something just wasn't quite right. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. I heard you and one of the captains got into a bit of scrape."

"It was nothing." she shook her head slowly.

"If you say so." with a discreet look closer he saw a rust colored smudge on her mask fragment. There were matching ones on her fingers that curled around the door. He felt the angry disgust coming back. "So it's true?"

"What?"

"You let him sleep with you?"

Fiera's expression firmed and she stepped out into the hallway, showing him that she was not fully dressed. "How is that any of your business?"

"He's just going to jerk you around, trust me. You've gotta stop seeing him."

"Why should I trust you?" she looked at him somewhat sideways. "You think because you are my son that you have the right to come here after so long without even a word and scold me?"

"No, not at all. I just worry about you."

"No you do not." she protested, her fists tight as she took a step closer to him. "You only show care when I do something that displeases you, like now."

"No, mother, it's not like that."

"So _now_ I am you mother?" she roared, throwing up her hands. "I heard you and Grimmjow talking, you only claim me when it suits you!"

"That's not true." he was trying to keep his cool, knowing that two hot heads would only serve to make things worth.

"Prove it." she growled, her amber eyes heavy on him and unyielding.

He couldn't, there was no way. She didn't trust him, so nothing he said would be enough.

"Look, we're leaving for Las Noches day after tomorrow," he put an emphasis on the time frame. "Don't you think there's something more constructive you could be doing?"

"What I do with my time is no concern of yours. If you are worried that I will not be ready to kill for you, there is no need. I was _made_ ready." the entire statement was made through a vice-tight jaw, fangs showing.

Okay, that didn't help. Try something else. "I just don't think you should be seeing him. Grimmjow likes to play games with people and I don't want to see you take a fall like that."

"What do you care? It is _my_ business! Besides," you could almost feel the surge of her rage. "I am sure what we do is no different than what you do with that teal-haired sow!"

"Mother, please,"

"If you want a mother then go to that _god-damned_ _Shinigami_! Your...your Mama-san! It is clear that I am not good enough for you!" there was so much bitterness and spite in those words that he took a step away from her. He stood there, stupid, seemingly unable to move.

"_Get away from me_!" she shouted, and that got him in motion again. She eyed him like a vulture as he traced his way back from whence he came, never looking back.

Fiera kept breathing, anything to bring her pulse down and level herself out. She took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out, finding her composure. She caught something in the corner of her eye, something small, and turned her head to see Hanataro standing there. He looked to be cowering, his eyes wide like a mouse in a viper's coil. She almost couldn't stand to look him in the eye, suddenly so profound in her own shame.

"Is that how you feel about us, Fiera-san?" he asked cautiously.

There was a degree of pain on her face at his question, as if the words cut to her heart. "No, Osito, no. Not you."

"W-would you like me to go...leave you alone?"

"Of course not." she tried to give him an assuring smile. "I have been looking forward to your visit. Where is Largo?"

"I could not find him or Yachiru-fukutaichou, so it's just me."

"That is fine." she nodded. "Come, let us play cards. It will help me calm down."

At the far end of the hall Grimmjow had been listening, mostly out of his own gross curiosity. It was almost funny how mad Fiera was, it tickled him a bit, but it was also a kind of frightening. He had suspected she had something real nasty pent up inside, but now he knew for sure.

Ranza had been right though, it was a game. Although he was beginning to wonder if he felt up to playing anymore. With any luck he would be able to decide that before he came back tonight. If not, this could turn out ugly.

_(–)_

"It's a reckless idea. Not just reckless...stupid." Soifon said over her tea.

"I know. But they won't see it coming." Yoruichi argued. "That's why it's perfect. They're going to be expecting all of us to come at them at once."

"You're sure of that?"

"I'm certainly hoping." Yoruichi grinned before taking a sip.

Soifon let the teacup sit in her hands just beneath her nose for a long moment, her eyes closed in thought. Then she opened them. "You're being selfish."

Yoruichi frowned. "I'm aware of that."

"You're putting the entire operation at risk."

"That too."

"And you don't care?"

"That's not it at all." she shook her head, taking another sip. "I just happen to care about other things more than that."

"You're letting it get personal." Soifon pointed out.

"Yeah, but isn't that when people try their hardest? Still, look at it this way; if we totally blow it and get killed, they won't expect the rest of you. I'd imagine they have a big enough ego to think if our first attempt failed, we'd be too scared to send anyone else."

"While I'm willing to agree, I still think it is an unwise choice."

"If we _do_ screw up, at least you could cross a few Arrancar off your hit list."

Soifon twisted her brow in a way that suggested what Yoruichi had said was somewhat unfair. Unfair, but true. "Yamamoto-sotaichou would not approve."

"Do you plan to tell him?"

"I won't lie," she finished her tea and then refilled her cup. "I have been considering it deeply since you told me all this."

"And?"

"I'm still trying to decide." she said with no intent or hint as to which way her decision may go. Her tone was that of neutrality.

"Way to leave a girl hanging," she laughed a little, propping her elbows on the table. "Look, I wouldn't do anything I didn't feel good about."

"Yes, but you_ would_ do something stupid that you feel good about. Don't tell me I'm wrong, because I'm not. It's only two more days, Yoruichi-san...if he is still alive, he can wait that much longer for you."

Yoruichi's stunning yellow eyes fixed on her. "But I can't."

"I know how you feel, but you're letting your feelings cloud your better judgment."

"We're _both_ guilty of that." she countered. "You can't honestly say that you wouldn't do the same if you were me."

"No, I can't." Soifon shook her head. "But...still, I only say these things because I am your friend."

"I know you do, I know." Yoruichi smiled. "And you're a good one, what with the way you tend to fuss over me."

It was quiet for a moment, then, "No matter what I do, you still intend to go?" Soifon asked, sounding less like a friend and more like a frightened little girl.

"I think so, yeah. Gotta do what I feel is best." she smirked. "You wanna come?"

"One of us has to stick to the plan."

"Probably best that it's you." Yoruichi finished her tea, putting the cup upside down on the table to show that she didn't want anymore. Then she stood. "If I can...I'll come back and help, I promise."

Soifon looked up at her, showing her apprehension in her sad set eyes. She couldn't find it in her to say another word. Once Yoruichi realized that she left.

There was still a few things to do, things to go over. She needed to find Starrk and Halibel as they would be going along. In case you didn't know it yet, Yoruichi was planning to move on Las Noches sooner than everyone else had originally agreed. Not too much earlier, a few hours maybe. Tomorrow night to be particular.

Both Starrk and Halibel had been pretty confident when they told her about a back door to the fortress via a network of underground tunnels. They were interconnected, but all eventually led to the basement beneath the palace. This seemed like the best course of action, seeing as the basement also was the location of the prison, which is where Urahara was most likely to be if he were still alive.

It had to work, she kept telling herself. She prayed it would work.

_(–)_

Unohana watched from her office window, looking out into the gardens as the many blossoms swayed about in a gentle breeze. She heard the laughter of the children, watched as blurs of pink and dirty blonde skittered about the roses and lilies. She could only guess Yachiru and Largo were playing tag or something of the like. She found gleeful surprise in that he could stay awake long enough to do so, much less muster the energy to keep up with the very spry vice-captain.

Komamura stood in the doorway, also watching, but never mind the flowers. He felt his heart smoldering at the serene look on Retsu's face. She looked so calm, so content, as much so as whenever they were together. He knew what she was looking at, could hear the laughter coming from outside. Oh, how he wished he could give her a child. It would make her so happy.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful, Sajin," she sighed, "if he could stay?"

His fuzzy brow furrowed. "I don't think Yamamoto-sotaichou would allow it."

"He has allowed Nel-san to stay." she argued.

"That's true, but I would imagine this to be a significantly different case. The boy would distract you...at least that will most likely be Yamamoto's protest."

"I suppose you're right, still, there is always a chance." she looked at him and then back out the window. "Would you help me?"

His ears pricked. "Pardon?"

"Would you help me look after him? If he is allowed to stay, that is." she gave him a hopeful smile.

His ears flattened outward, his courage faltering. "I...I don't know, I-,"

"Don't be so frightened," she laughed gently. "He likes you."

"I know. I just...I don't know if I would be right to,"

"You _are_, Sajin. I'm not worried about that. I wouldn't have asked if I was."

He knew that well enough. Retsu always was very sensible, still...what good would he be? He didn't know the first thing about being a father figure, much less a surrogate father.

"As well as all that may be, Retsu, don't you think you're getting a little too attached to him? I mean...chances are he will end up leaving with the other Arrancar even if Yamamoto doesn't banish them outright."

"But he's just a child," her expression saddened a little.

"He's managed long enough with just the prince to look after him, I don't see how that wouldn't work just as well now." He didn't want to be the doomsayer, but someone had to be the practical one. "I know you care about the boy..."

When Sajin didn't finished she sighed heavily, her shoulders rising and falling. "I do care about him. I guess I'm just concerned...where would they go? I've heard Hueco Mundo is such a terrible place,"

"But he's been living there since...gods only know how old the boy actually is. Besides, you have to consider the fact that his kind were made to dwell there. They can handle it."

He was right again, but she didn't want to say it. Everything he was saying made perfect sense and was the most likely course all of this was going to take, but she didn't have any desire to accept that. But, as she thought it through, it was probably the best. Minions right out of the bowels of Hell were moving towards Seireitei at an unprecedented rate, and if what she heard at the last meeting was true, they would be at the gates by tomorrow night if not sooner. There was no certainty that her or Sajin would make it, but that was the way of things, wasn't it?

"However," Sajin began again, "if all goes as you hope...I'd be happy to help you bring the boy up."

Her frown turned into a smile as she looked at him. "Thank you." She stepped around her desk and went to him, her arms opening to circle around his mighty form in an embrace. "I love you, Sajin."

He reciprocated the action, one arm across her back and the other petting the back of her head.

"And I love." he replied. "You know...nothing would make me happier than to give you a child. I know how happy it would make you." He said slowly, voicing his earlier thoughts.

"I would be happy,"

"I just hate the thought of getting your hopes up only to disappoint you." his ears flattened, almost shameful. "Or worse."

"Worse?" she was genuinely curious as to what he could possibly mean, the look she gave him was evidence of that.

"What I mean is...what if...the child could end up like me." he couldn't find the courage to look at her when he said this.

She lowered her head, shaking it before resting it against his chest. "It would still be ours, wouldn't it?"

"Of course it would,"

"Then that's enough. Honestly, you are a silly one sometimes, Sajin. Our children, if there are any, will be beautiful, end of discussion."

"A-as you say." he relented to agree.

_(–)_

Life is so much easier when you're sleeping. You miss out on the aches and pains of a tired body, the weights and trials of a fragile spirit. You take leave of all the worries and troubles of the waking hours, and you never miss a minute. When you sleep in or take a long nap, you normally think yourself better off over it. Your worst nightmare was better than your best day awake. At least you could get out of a dream.

Fiera liked to sleep. Well, most of the time anyway. It was always long coming, even late at night, but when it finally arrived it was deep, almost catatonic in nature. If you couldn't notice the steady cadence of her breath, you'd think her dead. Yes, she liked to sleep, but she didn't much care to dream. Dreams were almost as disconcerting as being awake. Perhaps that was why she could so easily remember being alive, the memories plagued her while she rested.

She was dozing in and out of sleep right now, comfortable in the warm water of the bathtub. Her hair draped over the lip to stay dry, the rest of her almost entirely submerged. Her heavy head rested on her shoulder, switching sides from time to time as one would toss and turn in bed. She'd been in here for several hours already, content to be alone for a while, the water staying warm simply from her own body heat.

Fiera flinched, partially waking as she swore she felt a small ripple of spirit energy. She waited, eyes half-lidded for something to happen, for something to change, but when nothing did she shut them again, eager for an extension to her nap. Her eyes were closed, but her ears stayed open a little longer, just in case.

There was something moving around on the other side of the door, in the bedroom. For a moment she thought they would go away once they realized where she was, but no dice. Whoever it was apparently had every intent to pester her. Maybe if she ignored them long enough they'd take the hint and leave.

Grimmjow made himself at home as usual, pushing off his shoes and laying his jacket unceremoniously over them. It was dark in here, the light still busted, but he could smell water almost right away, the air in the room feeling a tad damp. There was light coming from beneath the lip of the bathroom door, so he decided he would chance it, walking in on Fiera naked couldn't be all that bad.

He gently pushed the door open, just a smidgeon, and waited while peeking through the opening. There she was, seeming fast asleep. Somehow he had a feeling she was faking and stepped inside, quietly stepping to the edge of the tub before crouching beside it. With a mischievous smirk he dipped the tip of one claw into the water, the warmth of it sending a slight shiver up his back. He held the claw over her until the water dripped, falling on the tip of her nose. Amber eyes opened and focused unyielding onto him.

"Sorry to interrupt." he said softly, resting his chin on his now crossed arms.

"You are not."

"You know me too well." he laughed.

"You are very predictable."

He nodded, no reason to deny it.

"I thought you were going to return after dark." she adjusted to sit up a little straighter, covering her breasts with her arms.

"The sun went down about an hour ago, big gal."

Her brow furrowed as if she hated that she had missed an entire day and didn't even realize it. She didn't, couldn't care less that a day went on without her. She just felt like making that face.

"Would it be all right if I joined you? It looks just big enough for two."

"Why not?" she almost laughed as she drew up her knees. "It is what you came back for."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he stood up and started untying the sash holding up his hakama.

"You only come for my body."

He almost laughed, hearing a perfectly good joke that she didn't mean to make. "Now that's not true...entirely. You're the only person that'll give me the time a day around here; I'd rather spend time with you."

"I think...I am glad to hear that." she had hints of a blush on her cheeks as she looked away from him, his hakama having hit the floor.

"Come on, not like you haven't seen it before." he couldn't help but laugh as he stepped into the water, some of it sloshing to the floor. "Never thought of you as the shy one."

"You did not think anything of me until recently." she countered flatly.

Again, she got him, no need to lie about it, so he only nodded, lounging back in comfort. He stretched a little his ankles touching hers.

Last night Grimmjow realized Fiera had a very fine pelt of fur all over her body, almost invisible just by looking at her. He could feel it now against the skin on his legs, little bristles. The fur laid flat most of the time, and lifted when she was angry or felt threatened. But they also did it when she was aroused, he found. Maybe that's how she transferred it to him, that hot ginger tasting stuff that came out of her skin. He felt himself starting to purr, his loins tugging at the thought of the fun they had last night. The water started to ripple with the deep, rich sound soon coming from his chest. He let his head fall back, all his muscles loosening.

Maybe Fiera was finding a form of comfort in the sounds he was making, as she started to make her own. It was a low rumble when she exhaled, a dull whine or warble, like bears make. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep again, but now making that strange noise unlike a few moments ago when she was alone. Maybe, Grimmjow thought briefly, just maybe, she was starting to like him.

After a few minutes, she stopped and opened her eyes. "Grimmjow,"

"Hmm?"

"Could I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She paused a moment, perhaps looking for the words. Then she smirked superficially. "You do not love me."

"I thought you were going to ask me something." he opened one eye. "What brought that up anyway?"

"I," the words went away for a moment. "I want to understand what it is we are doing. Why."

"I'm sure you've got an idea." he said, trying to show that he had some confidence in her.

"I do, but I cannot say I like any of them" she looked down, staring holes into her kneecaps.

"I feel ya," he nodded. "I'd imagine you don't just want a fling, you want a mate, right?"

"I do not really know. That is the difficult part. I have already accepted that you do it simply because you are a slut."

He laughed.

"But, considering that you are indeed a slut, I am having a hard time deciding why I go along with it."

One could say Grimmjow was taking advantage of her innocence and loneliness, because he really was. Although it was starting to make him feel pretty bad, which was unusual. He probably wouldn't be able to keep this a game for much longer, but what really bothered him was his uncertainty of what it would become after that. There was only two ways about it, after all.

Grimmjow let his head lay back again. "Everybody needs somebody." he said. "You're no different in spite of what you may think."

Fiera shrank a little. Was he right? Maybe, but that didn't calm the many questions running amok between her ears.

"Perhaps I ask because...I do not really know what it is to receive love , if you want to call it that. I mean," she paused, trying to think it through before speaking. "The children are kind to me, affectionate, but they do not fully understand me, what I am. Anyone who does has hated me...even my creator. But not you."

"Maybe because we're so much alike." he thought aloud. It was a fair assumption, once you got down to the nitty-gritty of it. "We're just beasts trapped in human bodies. We should've been left in the wild, if you ask me."

Yes. That was something she could most certainly agree with. It would have been better to have remained a Hollow bear wandering the dunes and petrified forest, unaware and unchanging. But no, _that man_ had to dabble with things he shouldn't have. He just _had_ to play god.

"Try and look at it this way, baby," Grimmjow shrugged after a while. "Animals mate every year, a lot of them stay together; they do it because they need to, but that doesn't mean they don't care about or love one another. I suppose that's kind of how I feel about it."

"So you are...undecided? In between?" her tone was almost hopeful.

"Sure, let's go with that."

That was actually somewhat comforting. Perhaps indecision was best for now.

"I mean," he began again. "I like you well enough, I guess. I'm just not too sure about the rest."

"I understand." at least she thought she did. "It is too soon to tell."

"Definitely."

It was quiet again, a little longer than before. The noises didn't start again as neither of them were much relaxed anymore. Grimmjow was ogling her now, feeling his loins tugging again. He was starting to itch like he had been off and on all day long. He wanted her again. But it was a slow burn, there was no scent of cinnamon to get him really fired up.

Fiera could feel his eyes on her, their weight and heat. Her spine tingled in knowing those brilliant cerulean eyes were moving up and down her body. She had known what he wanted the moment she realized it was him in her presence, now she was trying to decide whether or not to let him have it. If she did, it would only perpetuate his emotional control over her, but if she didn't, she would be left alone, again feeling abandoned. Which would be worse? Well, she considered for a moment, life was short, and tomorrow was no guarantee, so why not do what pleases you while you can?

She felt the water shift, heard the muffled squeak of skin skidding over porcelain.

"Put your legs around me," she heard Grimmjow growl quietly. She did as he asked, feeling his body circle about her own. His erection laid against her belly, hot and heavy, and his head rested against the plump of her breasts. Her hands gripped at his shoulder blades, hanging from his back, and his found her buttocks, his fingers curling but not squeezing. She tingled all over from the great warmth coming from him, and listened with near content as he began to purr again.

"You could always tell me no." he said. "You know that."

"I do." she nuzzled her cheek into his hair.

"So why don't you, if you think I don't love you?"

"Because it is better than being alone." she admitted, not caring that it sounded so sad, so desperate.

He listened to her heartbeat, seemingly louder than any other he'd heard. He figured her heart was bigger than his own, much like everything else about her. In any case, he heard it hitch when she said that, and somehow felt his own prick.

"You've been alone a long time, haven't you, baby?" he gently kissed at her collar bone. There they were; the fine hairs of the pelt were starting to stand up, he felt the bristle against his lips. A hint of ginger was there too. He kept kissing. "It's okay now. Your Grimm-kitty is here."

She knew he was just blowing smoke up her ass. It was all part of his ploy to get under her skin as well as some other places. But, it was as she said, this was far better.

Grimmjow slowly kissed up and down, lapping up the burning spice now clinging to her skin like a fine veil of sweat. He eased up her throat, across her jaw line, and up to her waiting and rather eager lips. She wanted this too, and it showed as she was no longer bound by the uncertainty and confusion of the first time jitters. Perhaps it had gotten to the point where she didn't care to understand what they were doing, only that they were together like this.

Grimmjow tightened his grip on her butt and lifted her against him, the water making the action much easier as it bore most of her weight. Not that he couldn't have lifted her anyway, it was just a lot less strenuous. Then he carefully set her back down in his lap, their bodies coming together in a single push of his hips. For a short moment they held each other, embraced with such temerity you would almost think they _were_ in love, not just scratching an itch. Just a split second where gold met blue, and there was a form of affection, but then it was gone, then it was just mating.

Half of the water in the tub was on the floor by the time they had finished. Grimmjow slumped back, his arms out to the side as gasped to catch his breath. His skin had reddened and sweat rolled all over him. Fiera straddled him, still engaged, holding her trembling body up with her hands on the rim of the tub. When he found the energy he sat up, grabbing hold of her and licking at some of the sweat on her belly. He could already feel himself hardening again.

"Let's get you to bed, baby." he purred. "Let you lie down."

"I am not sleepy." she protested as he helped her stand and step onto the tile floor.

"Now I didn't say anything about going to sleep." he grinned. And in truth it was probably the last thing they did. Once Fiera was on her back he was all over her again. Don't get me wrong, she did well enough when he gave her the reigns, but now he wanted to have some fun. He rolled her onto her stomach and took her that way.

A curt scream ripped its way out of her, her eyes going wide and her fangs showing. Her claws hooked into the mattress, ripping the sheets.

"That's it," he growled into her ear, his body flush along her back as his hips churned back and forth at a frantic pace. "Let it out," he knew what he was asking, knew what he pushing, but he had to know what would happen.

"Grimmjow,"

"Show me how wild you are, Fiera." and he bit her on the shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

All her nerves snapped to attention at the sound of her name, her back bowing sharply downward.

They were a couple of animals, much more so than the night before. It was to the extent that neither one of them could quite remember what happened, at least not until they had been awake for an hour or two the next morning. Grimmjow was somewhat proud to find the mattress on the far side of the room, shredded sheets all over the place, and the bed frame turned on its side. That, and his body was covered in fresh wounds that he wore with satisfaction alongside all the others.

Fiera was troubled to find herself, once again, with blood on her hands. The glass from the broken light hadn't been cleaned yet, and she could feel shards of it stuck in her back and palms. She needed Grimmjow's help to pull all of them out.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked as his claws gripped a small sliver.

Fiera shrugged, unsure of what she wanted anymore. "I will not make you stay." she finally surrendered.

"Will you _let _me?"

She answered with a quiet nod, waiting for the last of the glass to be freed of her before curling up on the toppled mattress with him to sleep for another few hours, a pair of beasts slipping around each other for the warmth as none was to be had from the ripped linens.

Author's Note: I know I said I'd get back to the plot in this chapter, but it just didn't happen. More filler, which I'm sure all of you are sick of by now. I wanted to squeeze in a bit more Grimm/Wrath, kind of explore that a little further. Next chapter, cross my heart, I'll be back on the plot. Might finally have that righteous Ulqui/Hime I initially started writing this for. See you then.


	24. Chapter 24

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"_Ask yourself how I could keep my eyes dry when, close by, I saw the image of our human form so twisted." The Inferno: Canto XX, Verse 20-23_

"We're leaving Soul Society tomorrow morning." Soifon announced as she sat with the rest of them at a low lying table, a rough sketch of a map of Las Noches spread across it. "We're going to split into three groups."

Captain Hitsugaya, Ranza, and Grimmjow were present. Yoruichi was called to attend, but she was nowhere to be found. Each of them were at least appearing to be listening.

"One group will go through the portal. We can only assume it leads to Hueco Mundo, or even right inside the palace." She continued. "The rest of us will approach the fortress from two separate sides, one of which will be taking the front door to provide some form of diversion." Soifon pointed out her intended directions on the map with one finger, sliding it from place to place across the slightly rumpled paper.

"I take it we're to assume they know we're coming?" Ranza lifted one eyebrow.

"It would probably be the safest bet." Hitsugaya remarked.

"I honestly couldn't tell you what to expect." Soifon admitted. "There's no telling where the remaining Sins could be, as most of us have never been inside Las Noches in the first place."

Ranza nodded, his hand at his chin. "I'll take the portal then."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I know my way around pretty well. I could meet with you at the front gate once I've made it there."

"_If_ you make it there." Grimmjow sniffed. "_I_ can get you in _and_ show you around."

"This isn't a pissing contest, Grimmjow." Ranza glared at him.

"All bickering aside," Soifon intervened, "I like the idea in any case. Can you go alone?"

"I got the worm, so I should be okay until we meet up. At the very least, if all goes well, I'll be able to move about pretty easy since they'll be too busy with you guys."

"Sounds sensible. This may not be much trouble after all." Hitsugaya almost sounded hopeful.

"Not likely." Grimmjow smirked. "Even if you get passed the guards, maybe even make it to the throne room, you've still got the trifecta of fuck to deal with."

"Then perhaps we should try to deal with them separately? I remember you mentioning," she looked at Ranza, "how they only had any real power when they worked together."

"I did." he nodded again. "But that doesn't mean they aren't a threat otherwise. What's worse is that I have no clue what they're capable of either way."

"One thing you can never count on is luck." Hitsugaya said, his shoulders looking heavy.

"Life isn't about luck." Grimmjow put hands behind his head, smiling.

"And it's a good thing too." Ranza glared at his fellow Arrancar again.

"So who will go with who?" Soifon looked back and forth between the other three.

"I'd say I'll go with short shit, but both of you fit that description, don't you?" Grimmjow laughed. "I guess if I have to pick...I'll go with the little guy. He looks like he could use the backup."

Everyone noticed Toshiro's brow tighten in frustration. "Very well." he said through a tightened jaw.

"Then Wrath shall come with me. If we're still separated by the time our mission is complete, everyone will head to the far side of the palace." Soifon pointed to the structure's rear on the map. "We'll wait until the sun goes down, otherwise we leave without you. Is that understood?"

Everyone seemed in agreement with the idea. No one had any questions, any reservations about the arrangements, so the meeting was dismissed.

Ranza paused out side of the room in the darkened hallway. He'd noticed Grimmjow's new wounds, some deep scratches on his neck and chest. He didn't even want to think about where else he had to have them.

He waited for Grimmjow to emerge, watching as he turned to go on his way. Grimmjow took perhaps seven steps before he stopped, his hands in his pockets.

"You got something you wanna say?" He turned his head, glancing over his shoulder.

"She's going to kill you when you let her go." Ranza cautioned.

"That's never stopped me before." he laughed. "Besides, you've got nothing to worry about if she does."

"You would think that. You don't have a clue how big a deal that could be." Ranza crossed his arms.

"Sure I do. If she goes ballistic, she might go nuclear. I've heard the god damned story a hundred times before. You sure you're not just worried she won't be able to save your sorry ass? Fuck, that's all you people give a damn about when it comes to her."

"You're an idiot, Grimmjow."

"I sure as hell know more about this than you do. At least I care to know in the first place." he was starting to sound a little bitter, not sure where the feeling was coming from. "You think Fiera is too stupid to realize you're taking advantage of her."

"Who?"

"You don't even know her fucking name? Christ, no wonder she's pissed at you." he shook his head, unable to laugh like he thought he normally would. "Look, go and find someone else to fuss over, you've got no room to do it to us." and he started walking on.

Even after Grimmjow was gone Ranza stood there, seemingly confused.

"Us?" Gusano chirped.

"Took the words right out of my mouth."

Grimmjow wasn't an "us" person, he was a "me" person. This was odd, way outside his typical pattern of behavior. Ranza couldn't wrap his head around the possibility that Grimmjow had changed, so he was left to wonder without any answer.

Fiera was still asleep when Grimmjow made it back. He'd managed to sneak out without waking her to attend that frivolous meeting so she could rest a while longer. Just as quietly he took his clothes off and slipped into bed behind her, covering her back with his body and purring as soon as his head settled on a punctured pillow. An arm curled over her and tugged, pulling them flush together.

Fiera took a long breath, her muscles tightening in a hidden stretch. "Where did you go?" she asked in a whisper.

"Meeting." he replied. "Nothing too big. We can talk about it in the morning."

"Hmm, yes," she made a little nod. "We are leaving tomorrow."

"Yeah. You worried?"

"I have no reason to be." she sighed. "No one will miss me."

"Aw, come on," he squeezed her a little. "Buttnoid would. And what about your little brother?"

"Both of them know how to live without me."

"That doesn't mean we want to." There was that plural again. "I want you to live."

"I would imagine. Where would you be without your...fuck-toy?"

Hearing that almost hurt. His stomach twisted just like his heart. Is that how she really felt? Damn, he was just as bad as everyone else around here, thinking she couldn't catch on to something so complex as the game he was playing.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like that, baby." he confessed. It was true, he wanted her to feel loved and desired, never mind whether it was true or not.

She made a noise as if to say "yeah right". "But I tolerate you all the same."

"Just tolerate?"

"For the most part. I have decided that I enjoy what we do." you could almost hear the little smile. "But I am still much like you...I am undecided."

He nuzzled the base of her neck, having a little lick just so he could feel the zip of the fine hair against his tongue. "What could I do to help you make up your mind?"

"I do not know." she shook her head against the mattress. "Although I suppose if you did I would, most likely, expect you to stay with me."

"Is that so bad?" he almost laughed.

"I am accustomed to being alone...I am still trying to find out if I am better off that way than with you. Besides, you do not seem like someone who likes being bound to somebody."

She got him there. Cats liked to roam wherever and whenever they wanted. He was true to his nature, and he couldn't help that. But bears wandered around too, didn't they?

"Maybe I just need the right person," he shrugged. Grimmjow scooted a bit upward, his chin now able to rest against her shoulder. He took a sniff of her hair, finding hints of ash and bits of himself in her scent. She really was alright, he thought. Maybe he could get used to being with her. Why not? She was easy to please, didn't talk much, and had a violent streak that wasn't so much unlike his own. He could at least try.

"Maybe you're the one I need. What do you think, baby?"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" she turned onto her back so she could look at him, able to see in spite of the darkness.

"Just a nick name. I think it suits you a little. Don't you like it?"

"No, it is fine. I was curious."

He smiled in the dark and managed one arm under the bend in her neck, his hand molding over her shoulder as he shifted onto one elbow. He half hovered over her now, finding a glimmer of gold to focus on.

"You want to again?" she asked, feeling his free hand pulling at the sheets. Damn cat could only keep his mind on one thing!

"Only if you do." he kissed her forehead almost...lovingly.

"You are...asking for my consent? Now?"

"Dunno," he kissed again, his fingers lacing together with hers and grasping. "Maybe I feel like I've been taking advantage of you. Something like that."

"You are so strange." she said with a small shake of her head before finding his lips and kissing him deeply, giving him permission shortly thereafter to join with her again.

Their coupling was much more sedate. No cutting, no biting, no rough and tumble mating. It was actually what some might call...making love.

"Just hold my hands, baby," he said; "Hold on and don't let go."

Both of them remembered it, treasured it even, when morning came. And they remained together in a sort of cuddle. It was not just for communal warmth, but for the security and comfort. It felt right.

_(II)_

It was time to go. The sun was would be down in Hueco Mundo now and the moon was in its new cycle. It was the perfect opportunity and there wouldn't be another one. Starrk and Halibel were ready, and Yoruichi was even more so, that was all they needed.

Halibel and Starrk had been working to hone their steadily growing powers for the last few days, and together were able to open a garganta. They quickly slipped through as not to be noticed by anyone.

The nights in Hueco Mundo were exceptionally cruel these days, like there was ice on the wind. The wind was sharp with the chill and bits of sand as it rushed over the countless dunes. Where they had come through was easily seen as the middle of nowhere, but there was a a shadow on the horizon, a shadow too big to be anything but the fortress.

"You said there was a back door," Yoruichi looked over her shoulder at the Arrancar.

"It should be nearby, but the tunnel is long." Halibel crossed her arms, feeling the cold giving her goosebumps.

"I'm glad somebody remembers all this." Coyote scratched the back of his head. He then stepped out of his body, becoming Los Lobos as the gigai slumped to the ground now empty. "Let's say we get a move on then?"

"Are you just going to leave yourself here?" Halibel looked at him, making a curious face.

"It'd be pointless to lug it around, and the sand will probably cover it up soon," he thought that was explanation enough.

"How will you find it again?"

"Good question." he thought about it and thought about it. Then it appeared to come to him. With a solid effort he was able to summon one of his spirit wolves. It would stay near the gigai, keep it safe, and keep him from losing track of it. "Problem solved."

"Alright, let's get going." Yoruichi urged with a hand gesture.

Yoruichi was frustrated that they couldn't move quickly in their search for the tunnel opening. It was a fussy business full of careful observation and double checking. She wanted so bad to hurry, not just for the obvious reasons, but so she could get the hell out of here. When they finally did find it, they had been wandering about this cursed desert for almost an hour; one might think it more practical to just move on the palace itself. Still, Yoruichi found a sense of relief and renewed vigor in spite of the darkened confines of the passage. They ran it's length at full tilt.

It easily stretched about two miles, give or take. When they reached its end they found light, a floating globule of a glow near the ceiling, but not the basement prison like they had hoped. It was hub of some kind, the heart of the tunnel maze where all tunnels met to reach the palace. The only problem is figuring which passage was the right one. There had been so many twists and turns they had no idea which direction they were facing now.

"Any ideas?" Coyote wondered aloud, the barrel of one gun tapping at his arm as he looked around.

"I can feel a draft coming through some of these." Halibel noted.

"So can I." Yoruichi stood by one of the openings. "But not the others. One of them has to take us to Las Noches, the rest are just out of the wind or caved in."

"Talk about troublesome." Starrk scratched his head again.

Everyone froze at this loud, scraping sound coming from one of the tunnels. It echoes and whined through all the passages, compounding on itself as it appeared time and again. Something was moving, most likely towards them.

Whatever it was came lumbering through tunnel, slow, heavy and clumsy. The scraping was accompanied by what sounded like a congested man breathing, bubbling and gross. The three of them slowly took steps away from the opening, Starrk raising his twin pistols in a defensive gesture. The room suddenly began stinking.

Bordell emerged from the shadow, but something was noticeably wrong with him. He couldn't stand straight, holding himself up by one hand on the wall. Each step staggered and his head appeared too heavy for him to lift. If it were even possible, one could say he looked worse than usual. And where was his cleaver? He coughed and choked, his hand at his mouth as if it could stop all the black gunk from spilling out of it.

Then he lifted his head.

"Kill me," he gargled. "Please..._kill me_!"

His eyes had been ripped out of his skull, the empty sockets still oozing blood down his face. He pulled himself out of the tunnel, and as the rest of him came into the light something moved. Something massive rose up from behind him as if on a hinge. It towered easily ten feet, a looming figure with huge shoulders, long arms that bulged with muscle, and wicked bone talons instead of fingers. In one hand it clutched Bordell's cleaver, the blade dripping with fresh blood. Its face, though mostly hidden by matted, filthy hair that went from its crown and down its back, was like a skull with no bottom jaw. There were tusks, and in the sockets were Bordell's eyes, still bleeding but moving as the creature looked around.

Apparently Bordell had gorged himself on far too much demon reiatsu, allowing one of the fell creatures to attach itself to him. Bordell's skin stretched away from his torso, neck, and arms, attaching the demon to him as it rode on his shoulders. It was hard to see where one ended and the other began. The Arrancar had yet another parasite feeding from him, now using his entire body as a vessel.

"What the hell is that?" Starrk staggered back another step, his aim still fixed on that horrible thing.

"Gakidou," Yoruichi answered. "The hungry devil. I've only ever seen one."

"How do we kill it?" Halibel seemed all too eager to know that.

"We have to separate them and dispatch it before it can reattach itself to something else."

The mouth in Bordell's belly started gnashing, yellow slaver bubbling at the hinges. The Gakidou looked at them curiously, its head tilted to one side. Then it lifted Bordell's hand and placed the cleaver into it. It lifted its arms and thrust its claws into the stone ceiling, lifting itself off the ground. Bordell now hung there, dangling.

"It's vulnerable where the two of them join." Yoruichi sounded pretty sure of herself. "At least I think so."

"Why don't I feel better having heard that?" Starrk was actually starting to show signs of nervousness.

"We can buy you time." Halibel said as she drew her Zanpakuto, her eyes glued on the creature in the ceiling. "Just hurry."

"You sure?"

"We'll do the best we can." Coyote found a smidgeon of courage large enough to nod his head. "What are you waiting for?" and then he pulled the triggers in quick succession, forcing the demon curl up on itself for protection. Clouds of dust came falling down. "Get moving!"

And in a blink she was gone, most likely down the tunnel that Bordell had crawled out of.

Starrk unloaded a savage volley into the devil, trying to aim for that soft spot where the devil and the Arrancar joined. Halibel managed to hold its attention in her attempt to disarm him. Under any other circumstance it should have been an easy task, but since when was anything normal? The Gakidou willed Bordell to swing the cleaver again and again in heavy swipes, one of which easily capable of taking your head clean off if not crush your skull to pudding.

_Whish_, he swung back, _whoosh_, he swung forth, his motion like a pendulum. He would even switch hands if she tried to take him from the opposite side. Halibel was wary, and had a strong feeling if she even attempted to meet it with her sword, her Zanpakuto would surely break.

Starrk pulled back one pistol and found the strength to summon a pack of four spirit wolves. He bid them attack the Gakidou, latching onto whatever they could reach. One closed its jaws onto the devil's armpit, the others centering on the spongy, tough flesh that commingled the two. The pair thrashed and wailed. Then the wolves detonated.

Smoke filled the chamber, flecks of dust and bits of rocks fragmenting to the floor from the ceiling. There was a terrible echo of a gargling scream, a punctuating sound of agony. Then there was a loud thud, the sound of flesh hitting heavily onto impacted soil. The lifted dust hadn't fully settled and Starrk could see the flailing mass of limbs on the ground, a steadily growing puddle of blood being smeared beneath its wild movements. The eyes rolled frantic in their sockets, the pupils going sideways to glared at both Starrk and Halibel at the same time. Truly creepy.

Halibel took the prime opportunity to go on the offensive, the cleaver having been forcibly removed from Bordell's grip by the blast. With quick, even strides she knelt over Bordell, aiming for his throat. His skin was tough, like leather, and difficult to slice through. With heavy hacking motions she finally separated the head from the body, trying her damnedest to ignore his strangled screaming. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

When Bordell was, more or less, considered dead, the Gakidou threw an absolute shit fit. As Bordell's corpse began to ooze with all its rot and pestilence, rats and bugs scurrying to escape, the hungry devil went into a sort of seizure. It seemed unable to control its body, thrashing so hard that the eyes flew out of its head, flying into different corners of the room leaving little bloody fingerprints on the floor. Its flesh began separating from Bordell's body, pulling and pulling until it tore away, splitting like stressed rubber. It left a gaping, sucking emptiness with the tail of its spine hanging out. The tendrils of skin began to move on their own, grabbing like little fingers for something to hold.

For a moment the Arrancar stood and watched, perhaps waiting for the accursed thing to expire as it lay there. Still, for a moment they paused, which was a serious mistake. Perhaps out of instinct it was able to slip over on its belly, using its hefty arms to pull itself about with surprising speed and grace. He was able to outmaneuver Starrk's rounds, staying perhaps a breath ahead of him. It back peddled once, taking cover in the smoky dust to hide, and then lunged out of it. One clawed hand circled Halibel's ankle and yanked, forcing her to the ground, biting her tongue as her chin struck the floor. The devil dragged her out of sight.

"Coyote!" she cried.

Starrk felt himself fall into panic. He couldn't see either one of them. He could hear the struggle, but could do nothing. If he aimed his pistols even a hair's width in the wrong direction...what to do? Well, he thought briefly, if guns were useless, it's best to just dive in. Which is exactly what he chose to do. He practically leaped into the dust until he landed on something flesh-like, wrapping himself around it in a death grip. He thought himself lucky to have actually grabbed the Gakidou, feeling its huge muscles pulling and twitching under him. He found the neck and shoulders of the demon with his arms, locking himself hand-to-wrist around it.

The dust settled again, allowing Starrk to see clearly what was going on beneath him. The Gakidou was trying to secure another host, partially into the process. It was trying to attach itself to Halibel in the same way it had Bordell; as the loose skin at its trunk made way to merge with hers, it was clawing to get at her eyes, needing to fill its empty sockets with them. It was taking all the strength she could muster to keep its long, bony talons away from her face.

As soon as his mind processed what was happening, Starrk reached for one pistol and put it against the Gakidou's head. He pulled the trigger in quick succession, _blam-blam-blam-blam-blam_, until the thing stopped moving, slumping over. By the time he felt all right with stopping the devil didn't have anything resembling a head, just a lump of flesh and bone that was more akin to half melted Swiss cheese. Well, if you could get passed all the blood that looked like spent engine oil.

It was quiet for a moment, as if they were waiting for something else to happen, something catastrophic. Then,

"Coyote, get this thing off me." by the forcible sound of her voice, the weight of the corpse was starting to be too much.

Without second thought he removed himself from atop the pile and began to pull, finding the remains heavier than they first appeared. He pulled and pulled until Halibel yelped, begging him to stop.

"What's wrong?" and when he bent his head down to look, he winced. The Gakidou had already half-attached itself. Its skin was almost seamlessly laced with hers, giving it the consistency of silly putty. "What do we do?"

"We'll have to cut it out." she said, biting her lips against the stinging. She wiped at the dust on her face, smearing the blood from the small cuts on her cheeks and brow from the devil's claws. "Just be fast." and she handed him her Zanpakuto.

He really didn't want to do this, imagining this was going to be a messy, troublesome affair. But he didn't have any other choice.

_(–)_

Yoruichi reached the end of the passage after what felt like miles, the air changing to cool and damp with the smell of a marsh hanging in it. It was still rather dark, the ethereal glow of a distant light source making the chamber seem somewhat ghostly. With care she stalked through the seemingly endless chamber, staying low to the ground as to remain unseen. There was no telling what was skulking about in the darkness here. She could _feel_ something was there, but she couldn't see it, and that was damn near frightening.

She felt herself bump into something hard and rigid. Reaching out she found cold steel bars, wrapping her fingers around it for a brief moment. It gave her a renewed sense of hope, as if there was still a chance to avoid disaster. She was close now, almost there. As the light grew and her eyes adjusted, she was able to make out the multiple upon multiple cells and cages all around. This had to be the right place. If it wasn't, she'd put her own boot up her ass. Nice trick, huh?

Something was sliding across the stone floor not too far away, so she honed in on that with no little degree of caution. She rounded several cells before coming into the light, seeing the source of the sound. Well, she didn't exactly see it, more like felt it, as a hand gripped her ankle. She covered her mouth against a surprised squeak. She was on the verge of swearing. You can imagine she was expecting something awful and zombie-ish to have grabbed her, but no such misfortune, although the appendage seemed skeletal enough to be fooling.

"Kisuke!" she crouched beside the cell, just able to make out his meager form in the shows, reaching for his hand instead of shying from it.

His only reply was a groan of sort, his cold fingers clutching. It was as if there was but a whisper of life left in the poor man, and he was using it to hold on to her. She could sense his weakness and it sent a shiver up her back. There was no more time to waste. Revealing a knife from some hidden sleeve, she prodded and twisted the lock with it until it finally surrendered. The hinges whined as she threw the door open. It was hard to ignore how bad he smelled, but sitting in a cell, in your own filth and illness for a few weeks will do that to you. There was crusted vomit all over the front of him, and the remnants of popped sores in his clothes. Urahara had been so very sick, and still was. The heat coming off his face was nearly staggering.

Yoruichi pulled one arm around her neck and pulled him up. She was forced to more or less drag him, he clearly didn't have it in him to walk even with help. When she found her footing and made to exit the cell, she paused as she lifted her head. More like froze stock still. How she hadn't felt the presence of someone else this close to her she just couldn't figure out.

Right away she assumed he was one of those three at the top of Seireitei's Most Wanted list, but that was as far as it went before defensive mode settled in her blood. Adrenaline started rushing, her nerves high strung and ready to go if things got nasty. She eyed him head to toe, taking in what features she could see; the dark skin, jet black hair, and all the jewelry stood out the most.

Azar lifted his hands, showing his lack of desire for confrontation. "No need to get excited, I'm not here to stop you."

Needless to say she was less than convinced, her golden eyes still pins and needles on him.

"I'll let you walk out of here if you wish, but I just have a few questions. Would you answer them? I understand time is pressing,"

Yes, it was, so why did she find herself willing to listen to him? "Make it quick."

"You're sending Soul Reapers here, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Yes."

"When?"

"In the next few hours, most likely." her answers were quick, to the point, like his questions.

"I see." he nodded with a slow blink of his eyes. "The portal that opened in Seireitei leads into my workshop. You'll find the machine making them there as well."

"Why are you doing this?" she had to know. It was one of those things that would keep anyone awake at night until they knew the answer.

"I hate my brother. I don't like how he's doing things, he's putting all of us on the line for him. If I can have a hand in putting him away, that's quite all right."

She was confused, unable to really follow how it was seemingly so easy for Arrancar to hate one another. "Anything else?"

"That's about all. I won't keep you any longer." and, with the air as if nothing had happened just now, he disappeared, the heaviness in the air going with him. Had he been waiting down here this whole time?

Yoruichi willed the awkwardness away, knowing there would be opportunity to mull over it later. She disappeared from the prison, flickering in and out of sight as she retraced the passage to meet up with Starrk and Halibel once again. She didn't ask about the corpses on the floor, or the horrible, half-flayed state of Halibel's skin, but instead gathered everyone together and returned to Seireitei as fast as her feet would carry her.

_(III)_

Delayed by new developments, the party meant to leave for Las Noches waited in the main hallway of the Fourth Squad building.

"I don't like it." Ranza shook his head, arms crossed. "Something stinks."

"I say we take what we can get." Grimmjow countered as he stood across from the Arrancar prince in the hallway. "It's not like we got room to dick around."

"We could be walking into a trap." Toshiro mentioned warily. "Not that it changes much, but," he didn't have to finish, everyone knew what he meant.

"What about that passage Wrath mentioned?" Soifon brought up. "Where is the beast anyway?"

"_She_," Grimmjow huffed, "is on her way right now."

"What did she say?" Ranza asked.

"Just some way into the fortress only she knows about. She wasn't all too clear with the details. In any case, even if things go bad, at the very least the two of us can get in and do what we can."

"_That's_ comforting." the worm gurgled quietly. "We are _so_ boned."

"Don't be such a naysayer, grub." Ranza stomped his false leg a bit.

"No, I'm a _doom_sayer, get it right."

"Either way," Soifon began again. "We can't wait much longer. I've heard of a large force of Hollows and demons amassing to the southwest. I can only imagine more will come if we don't close the gates soon."

Everyone was in agreement about that. As usual, time was not on their side.

"Should I go on ahead?" Ranza offered. "If nothing else I should be able to draw their attention for a while, let you guys get in that much easier."

The Shinigami exchanged inquisitive glances at one another. "Perhaps that would be a good idea." Soifon nodded. "If what Yoruichi said is true, you may be able to disable that machine."

"Good idea. You ready down there, grub?"

"Yeah, whatever." and then Ranza shook his head as he turned to leave, walking almost briskly out the door.

Those that remained didn't have to wait as long as expected for Wrath to appear. There was but a brief transfer of words, new information pertaining to the mission and Urahara's fragile state. The shopkeeper would live, but it would be a long while before he could even get out of bed on his own power again. Still, he would live, and that was more than anyone had previously hoped. When all was said and done, they left the building, taking but a few steps away from the front steps before Grimmjow opened a garganta for them to pass through.

Grimmjow bid Fiera pause with a hand on her shoulder just before she was about to step into the gaping portal.

"What took you?" he asked. Why was he itching to know? Curiosity and cats, you know how it goes.

"Nothing." she replied, sounding somewhat rigid. "Nothing important. Stopped to think a moment too long."

"All right. If you say so."

Then they advanced just before the garganta closed, disappearing without a trace.

On the other side was the wastelands of Hueco Mundo, Las Noches not too far off; in fact, any closer and they were likely to be detected by something. From here the palace didn't seem like much, but I'm sure it was the same with Auschwitz too. The real fear came from stepping within its walls.

Without a word to each other they commenced with the mission, parting ways and working quickly across the churning expanse of sand. Toshiro and Grimmjow made way for the front door without hesitation while Soifon cautiously followed Wrath around to the fortress's eastern side.

_(–)_

Ranza stepped through the gateway quickly, as quietly as he could. When he came through the other side, he scanned the chamber he'd entered, looking for something to hide behind until he was certain there was no one here. From behind a chosen column he spotted the infamous machine, sparking and humming with all the energy running through it. Everything else was quiet with that being the exception. Still, Ranza didn't feel all too confident strutting through the room like he owned the place. With the utmost care he came out of hiding, favoring his good leg as to not make more noise than necessary with the other. Eyes still wary he used two fingers to pluck the troublesome jewel from its cradle, the machine down-shifting into silence. Ranza felt like he could breathe again once the gateway disappeared completely. Yes, he exhaled while tucking the trinket away in his pocket, one down.

Before he could take his first step away from the thing he picked up on the faint whirring of something behind him followed by the whine of heavy metal in motion. Out of sheer instinct he stepped quickly aside, and just in time to miss the massive blade that was filled with the intent to split him in twain. The horrible crash that followed the impact forced Ranza to turn, honestly unsure if what he saw was really there.

"If it isn't the prodigal son!" the golden golem with Barrigan's face bellowed, raising his axe again.

Ranza knew that voice, and that face was unmistakable, never mind how strange it was made from a precious metal. What was once shock transformed into a sense of haughtiness. "Would you look at that," he smirked after a moment. "Guess I'll get my wish after all!" He had wanted to kill Barrigan himself, and now he would have the chance.

"Swear, _Hermanos de la Costa_!"

In a swirl of reiatsu, Ranza reappeared in front of his 'father', his full power released. Immediately Gusano stretched out and snapped at the golem. However, for a half metric ton of gold, Barrigan moved with near fluid grace. He fired a cero at Ranza, quickly deflected by a pearl trident, and returned with a cero barrage from Ranza's hands and Gusano's mouth. Barrigan brought the sword down again and Ranza just barely dodged it. The stone floor splintered and several shards flew past Ranza's face, carving small gashes across it. When Barrigan swung the blade again, Ranza was ready and caught the blade between the prongs of one trident.

"You had so much potential, son. You could have been king! King of death! King of Hueco Mundo! And yet, here we are, enemies. You should be fighting with us against the Shinigami. Why do you fight _for _them? You know they will just kill you the next chance they get."

Ranza grunted against the weight of Barrigan's weapon. "I'd rather die at the hands of a Shinigami than live as the king of this godforsaken wasteland." Ranza pushed with all his might and managed to knock Barrigan off balance. He slashed the trident, but it just bounced off of the gold plating on Barrigan's body with a sharp _twang_. As the old man laughed, the sound mingled with the ringing of his metal body, creating a haunting sound, like a church bell tolling a requiem. He swiped his hand and knocked Ranza through Azar's machine and into the wall. You ever see the world trying to spin four different ways at once? Ranza did.

"You think you can beat me with that half Resurreccion? Any real power you had left you with your leg! Were I facing the true strength of Esperanza Luisenbarn, I would probably be a pile of slag right now." Ranza looked up, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. "But_ no_. You had to challenge Nnoitra out of rage. And over what? The life of some little whore?"

Ranza's belly filled with fire. "_Her. Name. Is. Nel_!" He swung Gusano around to hit Barrigan, but the former king caught the worm and yanked Ranza from his resting place. Barrigan raised his fist and yanked his son right into it. He bounced the young prince around a few more times, like a paddle-ball, before pulling one last time. He pulled his fist back even further, but stopped when he saw Ranza's fist raised and cero energy swirling around it. That moment of hesitation was all Ranza needed. He drove his fist into Barrigan's chin, knocking him through the wall and out into the open sounds.

Barrigan jumped to his feet. "Ou are rike ee?" he shouted before he realized his jaw was broken. The main disadvantage of having an artificial body was not knowing when something was broken. The hinge on one side was disconnected and dangling, oil spilling.

"Finally you can shut up and listen for once in your miserable fucking life." Ranza's eye glowed a deep blue, as did Gusano's three eyes. The crests on his mask flared out, his coat opened to reveal a skeletal chest with four deep openings in it, and a line of fleshy spines erupted all along Gusano's back. "I've been saving this for you, practicing for the day that I would end your life. My only regret is that, in that body, you won't feel a bit of this.

"_Torpedear_." Each of the openings in his chest filed with a cone made if the same material as a Hollow's mask. "_Asesta uno_." The first torpedo fired and hit Barrigan in the left leg. It shattered into thousands of gold bits and the king slumped to the ground. "_Dos_." The second round hit Barrigan in the stomach, blowing him in half. "_Tres, cuatro_." The third struck the golem in the shoulder and the fourth in the throat, nearly blowing Barrigan's head to pieces.

"_Calentura_," Ranza said. Gusano's eyes glowed a bright red, and fire poured from his mouth, melting almost all of Barrigan's body into a thin molten heap.

Ranza walked up to the heap that had once been his adoptive father. He kicked aside molten parts of hand, thigh, and spine, cogs and gears twisted beyond use. A pair of eyes stared up at him, and a pile of gold that looked like a mouth issued forth an unintelligible hum. Ranza plucked the eyes from the sand and raised them to his level.

"Let one thing be clear, old man. My name is not Esperanza Luisenbarn, Quinta Espada and Prince of Hueco Mundo. That is the name and title you forced upon me. My name is Ranza Dorado, Pirate of the Hollow Sands. And I will ensure that, even if someone or something with a big enough brain to put you back together finds a part of you, they will never find another.

"_Echar Anclas_." A pair of long bony limbs jutted out of Ranza's lower back and deep into the sand, anchoring him in place. "_Vueltas del Mundo_." Gusano's eyes glowed green this time and a mighty wind issued forth from his gullet, scattering sand and grit and any piece of metal unfortunate enough to be caught in the gale. The eyes in Ranza's hand whirled around in their sockets, watching every shred of body flying away. When the maelstrom had blown away almost everything, the eyes centered on Ranza and almost looked sad. Ranza felt nothing, just as Barrigan felt nothing for him when Aizen banished him to the lowest levels of Tres Cifras.

"Goodbye, father," Ranza said. He released his grip on the eyes and watched them fly off to God knows where. He pulled the anchors back into his body and sealed his power back into his Zanpakuto. He stood in the sands in silence, the only evidence of his actions being the broken wall behind him and the scorch marks in the sand.

"Feel better?" Squiddy asked.

"Like a cool glass of water on a hot day, Squid."

"Very nice."

Ranza twisted to look back, feeling his muscles tightening at the sight of Azar dwelling in the gaping hole he'd just made.

"I hoped you would get rid of him." Azar almost took a step forward but paused when he saw that Ranza had his blade leveled on him. "I'm not here to fight you."

"That doesn't mean I'm not."

Azar's expression darkened. "I returned the shopkeeper as an act of good faith. Couldn't you return the favor?"

"I bet it was the first time you ever _gave_ anyone something more than trouble. You may have convinced the Shinigami, but I'll be damned if I fall for it too."

"What can I do to help convince you?"

"Get rid of that damned portal engine in there."

There was a wince at corner of Azar's eye. It was almost too much for someone to ask that of him, to destroy one of his priceless possessions. Still... "Very well. Would you like to watch?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." against his better judgment he sheathed his sword and stepped back into Azar's lab. Without blinking he watched Greed raise his hand toward the device, fingers outstretched. Slowly he clenched his hand into a fist, all the while the machine twisted and contorted itself into uselessness until it was naught more than a heap.

"Is that satisfactory enough for you?"

"Yeah. I suppose." he didn't sound satisfied, mind you. "Where are the other two?"

"I would imagine Valia to be in her room. Ciego...I haven't the slightest."

Ranza didn't like the sound of that one bit. Surely the three of them were able to sense one another...was Azar trying to trick him?

"So what now?" Ranza chanced to ask.

"I have the distinct feeling you didn't come alone. Am I right?" he waited for Ranza's response before continuing. "Continue with your plans as if you've done away with me. When you have found Ciego, I will come to your aid."

"You know I don't believe that for a damn second."

"But what choice do you have?" Azar arched a coal black eyebrow.

"I could kill you right now." he suggested. "Save us all a lot of trouble."

"No, good prince, you could _try_ to kill me. On your own that would be quite impossible. But, nevertheless, you must get a move on. If I can do away with either of my siblings, I will do so, or at the very least, try and send them your way."

"Why don't I feel grateful for that?"

"Because you don't trust me."

"Oh yeah." he didn't want to go, didn't trust this man as far as he could throw him, but Azar was right. He needed to get moving. "I got my eyes on you, pal."

"Of that I have no doubt."

_(–)_

It wasn't hard to figure how little faith Soifon had in her escort. It was nigh on nonexistent until they were actually within the walls of Las Noches. There was no light where Wrath had led them, her secret passage having been in a rough hewn tunnel that had begun at the foot of the ramparts. No one had known of it due to its being long covered by sand. Even though most of it had been cleared away from the entrance, most of it was cast in pitch black; Soifon was just barely able to keep pace, listening intently to the clicking and scraping of Wrath's claws against the stone as they moved along. She was not afraid of getting lost, just of letting the Arrancar out of her sight for too long.

When they reached the end, Soifon had expected to climb out of the passage and into the fortress, but was met instead with a sudden stop and still complete darkness.

"What is it?"

"It had been sealed." Wrath replied.

"I thought no one knew about it?" the Shinigami sounded less than impressed.

"Obviously not." Wrath growled a little. It wasn't like this was a set back she wasn't able to handle. Fiera slid the greaves onto her hands and thrust the claws deep into the solid stone barring the path. Then she pushed, and pushed until it gave way, creating an opening just large enough for her and the Soul Reaper to squeeze through.

It was dark in the chamber that received them, but not complete in its darkness. Light was coming in from a sort porthole in the ceiling, giving just enough for them to get their bearings by.

Soifon looked around, curious as to the state of the room. Plain stone walls that stretched twenty feet up, covered in curious copper colored stains and deep gashes resembling claw marks. The floor was in no better shape, remnants of massive, rusting chains and manacles littering one corner. By the smell of the air it was easy to tell that this room had been vacant for quite a while.

When she realized it was there, Soifon started for the door on the far side of the room, only stop once again when Wrath put her giant hand on the Shinigami's tiny shoulder. Soifon turned to see the Arrancar shaking her head.

"What is it now?"

"There are traps." was the basic reply.

"What were they trying to keep out?" Soifon asked with a hint a sarcastic laugh.

"Nothing." Wrath removed her hand. "They were trying to keep me in."

As if that didn't phase her; "How do we proceed then?"

"We go up." and with a single leap she reached the ceiling and begin to scurry through the porthole like a mouse through a crevice almost too small. Soifon reluctantly followed.

They must have climbed fifty feet or more before the shaft came to a bend, and then the other end. The pair appeared in one of the many long corridors inside the palace. No guards to be seen, none of the three remaining Sins either. Wrath couldn't even tell where her other siblings were, them or their Fraccion.

"Where are we?"

Wrath looked around. "I have never seen this side of the palace before. I only know that room."

Soifon rolled her eyes; why did she have to get stuck with this idiot? She should have paired herself with that damnable cat!

"Wait," Wrath said after a moment. "Ranza is in the palace."

"We should try to meet up with him. Where is he?"

Wrath sniffed the air, thinking perhaps she could find him. "Let us split up. We will meet in the throne room."

"You're sure you can find your way?" Soifon had less than good confidence in her ability.

"I will go where I smell the blood." something she had no doubt of finding before the day was out.

Fiera didn't hurry on after Soifon disappeared down the opposite hallway. She was not lost, not really, and it took a lot of guts to hold back her temper when the Soul Reaper looked down her nose at her. Fiera only made it seem like she didn't know anything, it was an easy ploy to pass off when the captain was so convinced of her stupidity. She could sense the others Sins, but faintly. One was on the far side of the palace, another was near the throne room, and then there was the last only a short way down the passage she was intending to go.

She didn't need a Shinigami, much less want one's hand in the undoing of her siblings. They had been created to destroy her, but she had the intent to return the gesture first. Just down the corridor she would find one of them, and as she drew closer, she knew who it was. Fiera pushed the doors open as if she ran the place, and stood in the threshold.

Valia's room was a prime example of gross over-indulgence as far as finery goes. It was filled with fine silk hanging from the ceiling, bed frame, everything. All the furniture looked hand crafted and flawlessly stained. There were mirrors everywhere. The decadence was to the point that this could easily be mistaken for Azar's living quarters.

And there was the queen herself, lounging on a plush sofa while her silent Fraccion, still alive somehow, massaged her feet.

"Who is that at the door?" she asked her servant, not bothering to lift her head and look for herself. But once his hands stopped moving for longer than she liked, that changed. Valia had to squint to be sure of what she was seeing. "Is that you, sister? Well I'll be damned." with a laugh she bid her servant leave, which he quickly, reluctantly did. Then she stood, brushing her long hair back.

"Come into the light, let me see," she demanded almost sweetly.

Fiera did so, but not because she asked.

"Oh God, it _is_ you." Valia repulsed. "You should have kept the mask on, sis, believe me. What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be blowing Seireitei to tiny bits?"

"I am here to kill you."

"You speak? I bet you think you're something special now, don't you?" she laughed at Fiera. "Please, you don't have it in you to take me out. I'm family after all; Aizen didn't pound it in that thick, ugly skull of yours to kill family."

"I have no family."

"Whatever." she sniffed. "Still, all of us were made to snuff you out. So if you want to die so badly, I'd be more than happy to put you out of your own misery." and one slender hand reached for her Zanpakuto that rested against the foot of her bed. She drew the long, lethal blade from its cradle, a scimitar polished to a mirror surface. She let the saya fall to the floor, as if she had the idea that it would only lie there for but a moment or two.

"Come now, sister," Valia said with all the pomp and grandeur of a washed up actress, "let me relieve you of the burden of that hideous face."

Wrath would not refuse the invitations, but she would not show a hint of gratitude for it. With claws poised and muscles tightened she assaulted Valia with the intent to kill. Valia was nimble, flexible, and quick to react, just so to avoid Fiera's endless attacks. The scimitar sang and claws whistled through the air as the Arrancar did their damnedest to harm one another. Mind you, Valia was not in the slightest bit pleased as Wrath destroyed her furniture in her feral attempts to outmaneuver her.

Wrath came down on her hard, claws forward and with a primal scream. Valia caught the attack with the edge of her sword, holding fair against the great weight pressing down on her.

"You should have been able to kill me by now," Valia said. "What's wrong, sister? Shinigami make you soft?"

Fiera snarled and shoved Valia away, continuing to press the offensive.

"Aizen told you to kill them, _all _of them! Rip out their hearts and bring him their heads!"

"_Shut up_!" and Fiera made a mad swing with one set of talons, landing an egregious blow to Valia's perfect face. Fiera paused, chest heaving for breath as she watched Valia appearing to be crippled. When she stood again, her skin was somewhat green tinted, and her eyes were bloody red with fury.

"You stupid bitch!" she hissed. She leveled the scimitar just beneath her eyes, angling the blade just so as to catch Wrath's reflection. Then the weapon started to change. It rippled and broke down into a reflective sort of slime, churning and changing shape. It eventually became a copy of Fiera's greaves, fitting over Valia's hands. It wasn't long after they fully formed that a pale colored mist started fill the room, covering the floor in a few short minutes.

When Valia resumed the engagement, Fiera found herself perhaps a half step behind, taking a few small wounds to her arms and belly. She just couldn't make herself move. Fiera would see Valia coming, know the attack was on its way, but was unable to react until the last possible moment that was almost too late. What was making her slow down?

It wasn't much longer before Valia had the upper hand, tossing Wrath around the room almost effortlessly. Fiera wobbled on her feet, her eyes threatening to close by themselves. It wasn't until Envy put her against the wall, the copied claws piercing her through the soft flesh beneath her arms, that she realized what was happening. Valia was smiling, the green tint in her skin gone along the rage in her eyes. Now they were showing the color of pound gold, much like her own. Valia was copying her! She was recreating the Rage Aura, but since it was like the reflection in a mirror, its behavior was reversed. Instead of setting people off, it calmed them down to the point of drowsiness.

The sparking pain woke Fiera up, her eyes now alive with awareness as she tossed her head forward, connecting with Valia's nose and forcing her to back away. Once she was on the ground, Fiera spun on her heels to kick Valia firmly in the chest. Envy flew across the room, crashing into one of the many mirrors, showering her in slivers of glass. Envy had a fit, a tantrum that had her flailing and thrashing. She started screaming with the anger.

"_Crave_!" she screamed. "_Mascarada_!"

Much like her Zanpakuto had done, Valia began melting, the reiatsu pulsating in the room as she changed. She reformed into something like a mannequin, without a face, without hair, without any genuinely unique features. Now her dress appeared much more theatrical, a flared collar and a cape descending from the shoulders. Her fingernails were talons that could stretch and recoil to any length she chose.

Four globules of mirror ooze separated from her and levitated no higher than the lattice-work sort of crown she now wore. They trembled and rippled as they shaped themselves into four theater masks, each one different. One had no expression at all, then there was the classic smile and grimace everyone knew, then the fourth resembled a snarling devil of some kind.

Fiera didn't like the feeling of this form, the nature of Valia's reiatsu was now constantly shifting from one thing to another. It was impossible to even begin to decipher her intent. This only demanded that Wrath be more careful, twice as aware and ready to react. But would that be enough?

Without a word, the mask with the flat expression fitted itself to Valia's vacant face, molding with her. Then her entire form stirred, shifting into something else. The mask was acting as a more powerful conduit, much like the scimitar, allowing Mascarada to take on the entirety of someone else's form. It wasn't a perfect copy, but it was certainly a better one. She became a mimic of Wrath, only with no color, just glass-like skin, making her near invisible as it reflected everything.

Valia attacked as Wrath's double, using the added power of the demonic mask to spit fire and bring forth sentient shadows that were sharp as razors and moved about in blinks. The encounter, now seeming to have been thrown into high gear, eventually broke through the walls and into the corridor, Fiera and her double on the ground fighting tooth and nail. I mean that quite literally.

"Look at you," Valia snarled. "You're pathetic. I'm better at being you than you are!" and she forced her claws between Fiera's ribs with a single, punctuating shove. The scream that came out was a pitiful one. "Aizen made you for one purpose, _just one_, and you couldn't even do that! What good are you?"

Fiera pushed through the pain, wriggling until she could put her feet against Valia's chest and give a hard kick. She winced as the claw slid out, but was quick to get back on her feet. She took the fight to Valia once again, dashing towards her sister on all fours and mad as hell. Valia began disappearing and reappearing in clouds of the reversed mist, and Wrath found herself unable to do that same. She wasn't feeling the slow grogginess, so why couldn't she do it? When she failed to teleport, momentarily caught in her frantic curiosity, Valia took advantage of it. Valia swiped her claws across Fiera's face, slicing her eyes and blinding her. Mascarada quickly changed back to her original form, reaching for the mask that was laughing.

"Sweet dreams, sister." and she forced the mask onto Fiera's face. Fiera fell back, hitting the marble floor with a _thump_, arms out and stock still with the exception of the rise and fall of her chest.

"Now," Valia sounded very pleased. She raised one hand, the fingernails growing to grotesque lengths and lethal edges. "About that ugly face,"

_(–)_

In a seemingly stupid move, Ciego had amassed his dwindling number of guards around the main entrance area of the palace. It was only a few score of the reptilian faced Arrancar, nothing great enough to cause worry Grimmjow and Toshiro. They carved a swath through the horde in what seemed like no time at all. In the end, as expected, they did draw the attention of anything and anyone within the fortress. Reserves of guards began surging into the entry corridor just as the two invaders thought they might be done with them. Easily a hundred more filled the chamber. A quarter of them were obliterated by Grimmjow's Gran Rey Cero, a bright azure flash of devastating light and energy.

Grimmjow had been trying to get away from the little runt since they broke down the front door. He didn't want to be paired with him, being quite capable on his own, but there were other reasons. He wanted to find Fiera. He had an insurmountable confidence in their ability to end this mess together, maybe even by themselves. Although there was another thing, something he wouldn't openly admit; he was concerned. He needed to know she was all right, as he had a peculiarly bad feeling.

Grimmjow could hear the Shinigami calling after him as he pressed through the teeming mass of attacking bodies, he heard and ignored him. The pipsqueak didn't need him around, probably got paired together just so the Soul Reaper could keep an eye on him anyway. Once he was passed the hot mess, he was running full tilt through the passages and corridors of Las Noches. Knowing the place rather well made him feel that locating Fiera would be an easy task, but he was feeling multiple flux and flickers of spirit pressure all over the place, not sure of their sources. It was starting to confuse him a bit, so he decided to ignore them. Instead he used his nose, trying to pick out any hint he could use.

And then there it was. Ash and brimstone. But it was a faint trail, and he didn't like that one bit.

He followed the scent to its source, somewhat surprised at what he found. The surprise was quick to die when he realized Fiera was on the floor, not moving. His instincts forced him to react. He charged Valia who was still hovering over her prone sibling, blood dripping from her nails. He put his fist to her face, following through with all the energy accumulated through his run. He felt her give under the blow, her jaw quite literally like glass. Pieces of her hit the floor in the slivers. She went still almost immediately when her body settled some feet away.

Grimmjow crouched beside Fiera. It didn't take him very long, just a few seconds, to take a wild guess as to what was wrong with her. She didn't appear to be seriously injured, a few blood stains on her clothes and skin, but that mask was painfully out of place. Just as he reached to pull it off it broke down again, becoming a shapeless slime that slithered away, making Grimmjow see that Valia had suddenly disappeared without a trace. Since it was pointless to continue worrying about any further, Grimmjow turned his attention back to Fiera.

He shook her, gently at first, called her name. When it didn't work he tried again, rougher, lifting her into a sitting position as he yanked on her shoulders. She came to and he stopped.

"You okay, big gal?" he asked, pulling his hands away when he figured she could remain upright on her own.

Wrath was disoriented, looking around with the expression of someone lost or misplaced. She almost looked heart broken. "It...it was...just a dream." it didn't sound like a question, but she gave him a look that almost betrayed that.

"What was just a dream?" he seemed genuinely concerned. Was she going off her rocker? "What did she do to you, baby?"

Seeming on the verge of tears she shook her head. "Nothing, just...nothing. Is Valia gone?"

"Yeah."

"Just as well. I will deal with her soon enough. Where are the others?"

"Around here somewhere." he replied, helping her stand whether she needed it or not. "I'd imagine they'll be heading for the throne room."

"Yes...that Soul Reaper had said she would be heading there...after she had found Ranza."

"I thought I felt him moving about earlier." Grimmjow nodded. "You sure you're gonna make it?"

"I have to." was her answer. "This ugly business must be finished." and she walked on, her expression now filled with determination and what might have been considered overwhelming self-loathing.

Grimmjow followed, suddenly feeling a little less confident.

Author's Note: Oh sweet Jesus, forgive me for this terrible mess I keep forcing out. I promise it's almost over this time. Maybe two more chapters, three at the very most. I know I said that two or three chapters ago, but I mean it this time. I'm deeply considering some Ulqui/Hime lemony goodness in the next one, if not, it'll definitely be in before the end, Scout's Honor. I'm sick right now, bad sinus infection, maybe that's why I'm pounding out the extra suck today. Anyway, off to write chapter 25. Thanks for everyone who's keeping with the fic, I appreciate you.


	25. Chapter 25

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"_Look at that imposing one approaching, who does not shed a single tear of pain; what majesty he still maintains down here!" Canto XVIII, verse 83-85_

"I feel so useless." Orihime paced back and forth, arms crossed, temper uneven. "I mean, I know why they want me to stay put, but,"

"Stop worrying so much." Ulquiorra watched her walk, her very gait telegraphing her irritation with the matters at hand. "There is nothing to be done about it now."

"I know, I know."

"Sit down." he half demanded.

Like a cranky teenager that can't go out because she's grounded Orihime complied, huffing as she bounced on the edge of the bed. "I guess I'm just concerned for everyone." And it was all too true. Ichigo was back in the mortal realm trying to fight back the hellions, and a vast majority of Soul Society was defending the southwestern walls. Nel, Starrk, and Halibel were out there too. Sure, she wasn't exactly the head of the Arrancar fan-club, but that was beside the point.

"Of course you are. If you didn't, I would be concerned for you."

Orihime laughed a little. "I guess you've got me pegged, huh?"

He lifted one eyebrow. "A figure of speech I take it? I see. Yes, I suppose I do. Although that is not a difficult thing to do."

"I'm so two-dimensional," she laughed again, shaking her head.

"On the contrary," he argued with his usually hushed tone. "I've come to find substantial depth to your character...more than I had initially assumed."

Orihime turned her head to look at him, able to ignore the lingering tenderness in her neck. She took a long moment just to look at him, noticing the general softness to his features. It hadn't been there before. And his eyes, normally they would seem to go right through her, right to her very core, now they just had a subtle emerald warmth. It was something you could easily get lost in. She pondered over him for a moment longer before scooting up the bed to sit nearer to him. Much to her surprise he leaned forward, arms outstretched to circle round her shoulders. With a gentle tug she was against his chest, his forehead resting just above her ear.

"You know," he began quietly," I never thanked you."

"For what?" she was starting to feel giddy with his initiating this form of close contact. She was blushing already.

"For all your help. I doubt I would have acclimated to this world very well...much less at all."

"Yes you have." she nodded slowly. "Lots of times."

"Have I? I suppose I forgot. But there is something else."

"What's that?"

"I am grateful that...you brought me back." he waited for a response, continuing when she made none. "I guess the thought of being something other than what Aizen made me was simply an idea I never had the desire to entertain."

"You thought it was pointless." and she was so right. She had him pegged as well, though it hadn't crossed his mind until just now.

He nodded with a hint of a grin. "Then again, I had never thought of there being else. In Aizen's employ I had accepted the likelihood of my destruction, so what good was there in considering other things? Had I known I would end up here..."

"But it wouldn't have done you much good, would it?"

"No," he actually laughed this time, his eyes closed. "The life of mortals is hardly what I would call predictable."

"You're not regretting it, are you?"

"Coming with you? No. What makes you ask?" he lifted his head, looking at her with a hint of curiosity.

"No real reason. I'm just a little weird that way."

"That much I am certain of; but is there something you have doubts about?" he knew Orihime wasn't one to bottle things up, although there were times those things needed to be coaxed out of her.

"Well, it's just...you know, as crazy as things have been, I figured you," she paused, "if it were me I'd probably be having a few second thoughts."

"That is because you have a knack for being indecisive at times. I do not."

"Good point." she carefully bumped against him, her fingers lacing together. "How is it you read people so easily?"

"I observe, simple as that. 'People watch' as you say. At times it is a far better teacher than interaction."

"You're not fond of interaction, though."

"It depends." he rested his chin on her shoulder. "I am...picky. I have preferences."

"I gathered as much." She knew what he was getting at. It was obvious the majority of the time he liked being with only one person. Everyone else he only seemed to tolerate. "Why don't you just come out and say it?"

"It's difficult." he said as if she'd put him in a delicate position. She was asking that he voice his feelings. The nerve of some people. Still, she had been so very patient. Ulquiorra pulled her closer, his arms circling her waist before whispering, "I would rather be with only you."

Orihime couldn't help but smile, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. It was quiet for a moment, a rather long one. Then, "Things have changed." she said softly.

"Yes. And I have no doubt they will continue to do so."

"You think we can handle it?" she leaned away so she could look him in the face.

"We," he puzzled. "...yes, I believe we will be capable." his eyes shifted upward, meeting with hers.

Orihime felt a small jolt down her back, and she was filled with a sudden urge that she couldn't even begin to ignore. Without so much as a timid request she kissed him. He accepted her almost readily, his grip tightening as she tried to shift around to face him. Her fingers curled against his scalp, gripping the thick black strands of hair as he kissed along her jaw and softly down her neck, all the while gripping her by her sides, his thumbs along the curves of her breasts. Her body bent forward against him, a slow surge that pressed them closer.

Ulquiorra had grown to love this, when once he despised, even feared it. Having come so close to losing her had changed his mind almost instantly. I suppose that sort of thing can happen even to someone as seemingly rigid as him. When once he'd recoiled, now he thrived on her touch, her warmth, her unspoken desire to be near him. You could almost say it made him happy. Very happy, in the best and worst ways. But surely she knew that already.

All was rainbows and sunshine until the reality of their situation came back to him. Now wasn't the right time, here wasn't the right place. He didn't want it to happen this way. He stopped, but not before lifting the hem of her shirt and pressing sweet, butterfly kisses to her bare belly. She shivered with a small squeak.

"When we return home." he said as if to explain. "We can finish this then."

"But," she began, trying to catch her breath, "what if home is gone?"

"We will address it if we have to."

It was a valid reply. Couldn't do much about something you weren't sure had even happened, could you? With that through her head, she dwelled on his previous comment that sounded suspiciously like a promise. _We can finish this then_. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Nah, he wasn't one to hint at anything. He said what he meant. At least...usually.

"I love you, Onna." he said just above a whisper. He finally had the courage to say it, his heart all a flutter at the admission.

If he didn't stop with all this sentimental stuff, she was going to bawl her eyes out. But tears would confuse if not worry him, so instead she laughed, petting his hair, and reveling just in his presence. It was like she'd been waiting to hear that since the day he disappeared.

"I love you too." and it was the honest to God truth.

_(II)_

_"Are you leaving now, Fiera-san?"_

_ "Yes, Osito."_

The Soul Reaper's voice bounced quietly between Fiera's ears, pictures coming and going, dividing her attention from the task at hand. She remembered clearly the look on his face, how sad he seemed.

_"I...will I see you again?"_

She stood there, looking back at him, wordless to his question.

_"I don't suppose I will then, huh?"_ the sigh that eased out of him was near heartbreaking. _"That's all right, I guess. We can still be friends, can't we?"_

She still couldn't answer, though she had felt the faint burn of tears at the corner of her eyes. It was a dull hurting that matched the one making her heart feel so heavy a burden.

_"You really have been my best friend, Fiera-san."_ He had taken her huge hand and held it between both of his, tipping his head up to look her in the eye. _"I wouldn't trade our time together for anything in the world. I mean...you've taught me so much; thank you."_

Instead of forcing herself to try and find words that wouldn't have fit or come out right, Fiera had fallen to her knees and embraced him, held him tight against her shoulder withing the secure circle of her arms.

Fiera forced the thoughts away, now wasn't the time to be distracted. They had found Ranza in one of the adjacent corridors, and now the three of them were making way to the throne room. It wasn't much further now.

Ranza didn't like the sense of preoccupation he felt about Fiera. Something wasn't right, like she was only half there. His worry was well founded, if she couldn't hold her own in the impending battle, God only knows what would become of the lot of them. He found a little more faith when they came upon a small patrol of guards in the hallway, in the way she laid them flat with their heads rolling beside their bodies on the floor. Still, he had his reservations about this whole damn thing.

When they reached the doors to the throne room, there was no sign of the Shinigami, or that anyone else had been here before them. The two large doors were still shut, looking untouched.

"Something smells wrong." Fiera said with caution, the look on her face showing her uncertainty.

"That makes two of us." Grimmjow looked just as wary when he voiced his reply.

"Maybe the Soul Reapers got lost?" Ranza chanced to guess.

"They would've ran into something by now. It's just too quiet." Grimmjow shook his head. "Let's get going. We don't need 'em." and he went to push his way through.

But wait a tick, they wouldn't open.

"What the hell?" Grimmjow pushed again, harder, not even forcing a creak from the hinges. "I call bullshit!"

"Hold on a second." Ranza waited for Grimmjow to step aside before putting his hand along the crease. "There's no air moving between them...something is sealing it from the inside."

"Then we will unseal it." Wrath said, taking a running start from several steps back, ramming her shoulder hard into the heavy barrier. When it didn't give on the first try, Grimmjow added himself as a second battering ram. The door finally relented on the third crushing blow.

Sub-arctic winds came whistling out of the opening. Flecks of snow and ice whipping against them on the currents of frigid air. Wrath recoiled sharply, feeling the icy burn against her skin.

"What in God's name," Ranza started, but didn't finish.

The throne room was covered top to bottom in ice and snow. The ceiling was hidden by the thick, gray smudged clouds that produced this horrid weather. A winter storm in the middle of a desert, who'd have thought?

The Soul Reapers had indeed come this far, the sounds of battle hidden by the thick insulation of ice along the walls. Toshiro was in all out war with one of the Quadruplets...at least what was originally one. There were eight copies of him, their masks broken to allow speech, and all attacking the captain at once. They would disappear and reappear from the snow drifts, moving from place to place at a dizzying frequency. If you looked closely, there were two Soifon moving about the expansive chamber, one of them being Mascarada acting as a doppelganger once again. Although the mimicry wasn't totally faithful; Valia had given her new form a taller build for a greater reach, and a more sizable bust simply for its own sake. They gave chase to one another in equal parts. By the looks of it, Azar was nowhere to be found.

But there, on the throne only half covered in snow was Ciego, seeming oh-so content to watch from his comfortable seat. The fourth of the quadruplets standing beside him with his mask still intact. Both seemed to enjoy the cold. Ciego's gelid eyes fell on his new guests, and he smiled beneath his beard.

"I've been waiting for you, sister." he said as he straightened and then stood. He bid Judecca stay back as he stepped down from the throne. "I intend to nail your head to the front door, so everyone will know how I was able to fell even one so mighty as you."

Fiera's face tightened, not just from the steady burn of snow beneath her feet, but with determination. "I will kill him. Make sure I am not interrupted."

No one refused, neither of them could even find a valid reason to argue.

"I'll take the copy cat, you take the clones?" Grimmjow suggested.

"Works for me. Ready, grub?"

"Let's-s-s do this sh-sh-shit!" clearly he was cold.

One could say that Fiera put the blinders on from the moment she laid eyes on her brother. Everything else she blocked out, even the pain from the cold. Her heart started pounding, her skin flushed red, and there was a chance she would start foaming at the mouth at the sight of him. Every picture in her mind that was involved with him was filled with unadulterated hatred. She wanted to kill him, and she wanted to do it now.

Ciego drew his Zanpakuto, a long broadsword that looked rather cumbersome. He lifted it with grace and ease, with arms as thick as his you'd think he should. At the foot of the throne he stood ready. Ready and eager to put his big sister where she belonged; a rug in front of his fireplace.

"Reign," he said still smiling, "_Vencedor Leon_."

Wrath tried to reach him before the transformation began, but was only a few strides short. In the few seconds it took for Wrath to leave to ground in a pounce, Ciego completed his release. He was now adorned in a golden breastplate, a lion's snarling visage in savage relief across his torso. It moved, gnashed its teeth, even moved its eyes as it licked its lips with a gilded tongue. A skirt of leather and bolts of steel covered his thighs, and plates of even more gold covered his knees and shins. His mask reformed into a sort of crown, a set of seven stabbing points over his head, and an immaculate white cape swept regally behind him. A set of tusks curled over his bottom lip, almost giving him the look of some hairy Oni. The armor was made complete by the living lions that covered his shoulders, and the massive golden cestus on his hands, all snarling and full of teeth.

He caught Wrath's hands as they drew near to his face and held her there, her feet dangling over the floor as she struggled against his grip.

"What's happened to you, big sister?" he tilted his head to one side, his tone of counterfeit distraught. "Why...you're not even taller than me anymore. You poor, poor thing."

"Keep your pity," she spat. "You can feel sorry if you kill me."

"And I will, have no doubt." and he shook his head. "Valia was right. You don't have it in you anymore; you couldn't even follow through with the single reason you were born. You're not a Sin, you're just a bad idea. A misconception that should have been aborted."

The rage in her reached a pinnacle, making her embrace the urge to spit fire at him. A bright flash of it right into his gloating face. When he dropped her she immediately reacted, jumping up to thrust her claws into the tender flesh of his armpits. He staggered back, falling on his backside. She just kept stabbing, her eyes bloodshot as the anger overtook her senses. Even released Ciego couldn't heal as fast as she could, so his blood began to spill into the snow, large crimson stains forming. Finally she stopped when Ciego landed his armored fist across her face, the blow jarring and snapping her head into her shoulder. Bones cracked and skin split open, teeth fell out. Wrath was on her back when Ciego stood, raising his arms over his head. Wrath chanced to fire a cero when her wits came back, watched as it struck him and then dissipated instead of detonating. The lion on his breastplate roared and writhed, having absorbed the energy.

"Nice trick, isn't it?" Ciego laughed, and then brought his hand crashing down.

Ranza cut through one of Ptolomaea's doubles, finding that it simply became a pile of snow in the faint image of a man once dispatched. He was quick to do this to the others when he could. They were multiplying as fast as he was dismissing them. If this continued he and Hitsugaya were bound to be overrun.

"We must find the original!" Toshiro shouted as he cut one down.

Ranza had already considered that fact, actually being one of his first thoughts. But there was simply no way to tell any of them apart from the other. There had to be some subtle difference, but what? All the while the storm raged on, not making things worse, but certainly not helping.

"This storm is not natural," Toshiro managed as he continued to fend off the copies, piles of empty snow forming all around him. "We have to stop it somehow, give this bastard less of a way to hide."

"Ranza," came Gusano's voice.

"What?" he tried to focus on the parasite as he held back another double.

"Where's the other one?"

"The other one what?"

"There's only two of the quads here, where's the third?"

That's right. Judecca was by the throne, and Ptolomaea was here as well, but where was Antenora?

"Squid, you don't think,"

"It was a thought."

"But even you can't reach that high, buddy." Ranza shook his head as he shoved a pile of snow away from his feet.

"But I have an idea."

"I'm listening."

"We need to go back into the main hall,"

"What the hell for?"

"Just trust me, okay? I got this!"

He didn't like the sound of it, and there had been times before when Gusano had been wrong, but at this rate there wasn't much room to argue. "You'd better be right about this worm. I'll be back, captain, I swear!"

"Hurry!" Toshiro cried as several enemy blades ripped through his uniform.

Grimmjow wasn't exactly having the best of times either. It was hard enough tracking Valia with her mirror skin hiding her outline, but keeping up with her was hell on wheels. It was like trying to catch a greased pig with hands covered in butter. Catch my drift? Not to mention those damnable masks floating around trying to suck face with him. He had already slashed one of them in half only to watch in disbelief as it bled back together. It was still fresh in his mind what one of those things did to Fiera, so you can imagine his desire to stay away from them.

The three of them shadowed one another, going after a target only to find it in another place by the time they got there. Grimmjow dared to think it couldn't get any worse, but as Karma would have it, it could.

And it did.

Soifon was unable to move fast enough to avoid the grip of the worst-of-the-worst Oni mask. Its possession was swift and complete from the second it came in contact with her skin. In the blink of an eye its will was her will, and she went after Grimmjow as it commanded. Now he had to deal with the two of them at once, Soifon and Valia, who were now both trying to kill him. Under any normal circumstance this wouldn't be a problem for him-on the contrary it would be quite sexy-but considering the painful fact that it wasn't, it's safe to say he found himself in quite the pickle. With this new development, wounds were starting to come somewhat out of nowhere, cuts and slashes where there once were none.

Their flurry of movements was not only making him a bit dizzy, but it was seriously pissing him off. At first he was trying to avoid them, not wanting to go out of his way to risk doing the Shinigami any harm, but he was quite fed up with that. Instead of backing away, he tried to meet the Soul Reaper in every advance until the moment came that he could react. When that finally occurred, he landed a solid blow with his fist to Soifon's face. The mask broke apart in shards and glinting slivers. Like someone who just woke from a deep daydream, Soifon staggered a moment until her senses fully returned.

With that out of his hair and Soifon back on his side, Grimmjow was able to focus enough to figure out how to find Valia. She resembled a ripple in the water whenever she was moving. Sure, it was a discreet tell, but it was far better than nothing.

Just as they were closing in on Valia, the entirety of the throne room shuddered. Large chunks of ice came tumbling down from the ceiling and walls as something gigantic came charging through the double doors. Shattered stone and ice tumbled around a mammoth form, and when the debris cleared everyone was forced to turn and see what had just emerged.

Ranza had returned with Gusano, but it certainly didn't resemble the tiny worm those chosen few knew, or even much the terrible serpent that served as the counterpart of _Hermanos de la Costa_. However, Gusano was now whole. The palace guards were created from the same Hollow that Ranza had forged his false leg from, therefore it was easy for the grub to assume control of one of their corpses, if for but a short while.

He was now in his true form, an incredible Dragon Tortoise with a shell like its own fortress, legs like columns with all the lumpy, scale covered hide. The tail was long and sleek like the neck, and the face was very much still the wicked sea serpent he was known as before. All he lacked was the third eye that was once between the other two.

Despite his new size he moved so fast, having been able to plow through the entrance at such a speed unheard of by any standard as far as turtles are concerned. He left large imprints of his feet in the marble floor as he hurried along. He drew closer to the mayhem and fired a cero from his mouth, great and terrible and nothing at all like chum. The blast eliminated several of Ptolomaea's doubles, allowing Toshiro some breathing room. Ranza slid down from Gusano's back to help the captain, charging the first Fraccion he saw and running it through the stomach with his sword. He sputtered and coughed up blood as slid he off of Ranza's blade and hit the floor. All the other copies collapsed, becoming nothing more than snow.

Gusano had his own agenda and began to stretch his neck upward, the leathery skin pulling taught and his head disappeared among the wintery clouds still filling the upper drafts of the chamber. He found Antenora up there in his release form. He had become the eye of the storm, literally; his form hand changed to that of a horrific chilling eye, blue and white, and he was causing the storm as well as telegraphing everyone's movements to his brothers and master. How Squiddy could have known about this, he'll never tell.

_"Take a look at this, you peeping pecker wood!"_

Gusano's eyes suddenly went black and unblinking at the Fraccion who was unable to look away.

Down below the snowfall came to halt, the flakes suddenly ceasing. The clouds dispersed, fading in mere seconds as Gusano lowered his neck. Antenora appeared in his sealed form, hands at his face as he blindly stumbled about, screaming as ink black tears streamed from his darkened eyes. He kept screaming, tearing at himself in mindless terror of something only he could see. The Fraccion fell to his knees, blood having started seep out of his nose and ears. Finally he fell over, shaking until he suddenly stopped, lying stock still. Whatever it was going on his head had scared him to death.

"Fuck, Squiddy." Ranza looked up at his counterpart, stunned. Gusano only winked and laughed, seeming all too proud of himself.

"To think I _almost_ feared you," Ciego snarled through his teeth. He held Wrath firmly by the neck, squeezing, slowly stabbing with the tips of his thumbs. Blood smeared his face, his once immaculate armor, and his flesh was riddled with cuts and gouges. He didn't like how his sister was holding her own, hated how he couldn't gain any significant ground against her. _He _was the king of Hueco Mundo, _he_ was the strongest of all the Sins, _he_ and no other! "_Why won't you just __**die**__, you useless little wretch_?"

Fiera could feel her ribs and pelvis still trying to knit back together from the fierce pummeling Ciego had subjected her to, all the while trying to stay conscious through the death grip around her throat. How she had managed to make it this far with him was a mystery. Her ability to heal was perhaps the only think keeping her alive.

Her strategy had been to not let him go, to let him swing his fists all he liked until he was tired. But that didn't work very well, as you might have already guessed. At first it was going rather smoothly, but she hadn't counted on his reach being so great. When she caused him injury, it appeared to only make him mad, and Ciego had one of the worst tempers, losing all sense of reason and having only the intent to remove the object of his frustration.

Wrath bit her lip and forced her limbs to move, stabbing him deep in the crook of one elbow. The corresponding hand recoiled, giving her more clearance to breathe as he winced at the pain.

"Damn you to hell, sister!" he spat, yanking her claws out of his arm and squeezing her hand in his until the tiny bones were crushed. Then he tossed her away like so much garbage with enough force behind her that when she collided with Gusano, it forced the great tortoise on his back.

"To me, Valia!" he roared. "Azar, where are you?"

"They're trying to join their powers!" Soifon cried. "Stop them!"

Soifon, Toshiro, and Grimmjow rallied together against Valia and Ciego, hoping to subdue them before the third sibling could arrive. Meanwhile, Ranza was seeing to his toppled friend.

"You okay buddy?"

"God, you're mom weighs a ton." he groaned, his legs flailing slightly.

"What's wrong, can't you get up?"

"It's not that," Gusano shook his head. "The body I'm using is a corpse, I can't stay it very long. I've almost sucked it dry already." he was starting to shrink, losing hold of his released state. It wouldn't be much longer until he was but a tiny worm again. "But I'll be okay for a while yet. Go check on Wrath."

He was reluctant to leave him there so vulnerable, but the grub was right. He turned his head, looking, finding Wrath as she was trying to stand. Her movements were sluggish, almost painful to watch. He was only able to take three steps before he felt himself jerk to a stop. He suddenly couldn't move his arms, or take another step forward. With a frantic glance he saw himself circled in a thick golden chain. Twisting around he saw Azar there, less than surprised. He should have known this would be coming. Ranza pulled against him until he started pulling as well, then it was like his strength was being sapped, his knees weakening.

Now in his release form, _Parador_, Azar was able to sap the spirit energy from, amongst other things, people. He had sprouted two more pairs of arms, each of his six hands brandishing a different weapon. Much like his Fraccion, his mask fragment had morphed into a collar, decorated in jewels and other finery. Like his brother he wore a crown, but one that resembled those from the birthplace of his complexion and the styling of his pharaoh's beard.

"Tell me, Azar," Ranza was still trying to resist the pull on his energy. "When did you decide to stab me in the back?"

"Not too long after you got that crotchety marionette out of my hair. The old bastard was actually expecting me to _share_." he laughed a little.

"Silly him." Ranza rolled his eyes as his knees gave out from under him.

"This way I'll be doing Ciego a favor and remove his only real competition. With you gone, he'll never expect what he's got coming."

"Ah, brotherly love," his heart was starting to have to labor through its normally typical functions. Breathing wasn't so easily done either.

"Come on, Ranza, give in before you turn to dust like the others." Azar sounded far too sure of his victory.

With the last of the strength left in the body, Gusano was able to pull off one final cero. It wasn't strong enough to destroy Azar, but it forced him to release Ranza, putting an accountable amount of distance between the two. Then he shrank, the shell and his legs disappearing until he was just a slithering slug of a creature.

Once Ranza had his strength back he went to find the parasite in the remnants of the corpse, helping his friend back into his burrow.

"Thanks a lot, bud. I owe you one."

"I get a kiss from Nel. That's what I want." he sounded tired, but still aware enough to ask for something like that.

"Only if she agrees."

"Fair enough."

But, as is so often true with good intentions, Gusano's rescue actually allowed for a worst-case-scenario sort of moment. The cero pushed Azar back, yes, but he stopped but a few steps short of his siblings, who had just relieved themselves of the antagonistic Shinigami and Grimmjow. Now was the perfect time. They came to stand together, backs to one another.

"Cheat," Azar said.

"Steal," Valia seconded.

"Lie," Ciego growled.

"_DEVORAR_!" came their cries united, and the release occurred. Mascarada, Parador, and Vencedor Leon became one from three, commingling into a single Arrancar. The flux of reiatsu was smothering, threatening to bring the entire fortress down around them. As one they grew in strength and stature, all wounds sealing, and it was quickly made clear that Ciego's influence was the more dominant. Devorar adorned the lion motif armor, but sacrificed the cestus and cape. Bodies blurred together as the transformation ceased, leaving the three of them distinguished only by their faces which sat upon a single set of shoulders. Ciego's visage was in the center, with Valia to his right and Azar to his left.

"We can take them now, Soifon, we have the greater number!" Toshiro held his sword at the ready, looking to his fellow captain for support.

But Soifon couldn't answer, could barely find it in her to even stand.

The lions gracing Devorar's armor sprang from their gilded forms as shadows, only half there, and then materialized into solid creatures, all teeth and fury. Three of them, all prowling and snarling, their eyes locking on their target. It sapped the courage from any who dared to gaze back, made them feel only inches tall and without strength. Then they pounced, claws and fangs revealed. Within moments it became apparent that there was no obvious way to dispatch them. Even full of holes and deep gashes they were still on their feet. It was the simple fact that the lions weren't actually living. They were only statues after all.

Greater number indeed.

"We're in deep this time, grub." Ranza tapped his leg with the tip of sword.

"Tell me about it."

"You got anything left in you?"

"I can't make a promise, but I'll try my best."

"That's all I can ask." and he summoned the last of his power to release, calling on the mighty sea serpent to attack Devorar.

Wrath was still trying to stand. Her joints were tight with the cold, her wounds slower to heal. She almost didn't want to get back up, considering how much easier it would be just to lie still. Even as the others were fighting tooth and nail just to survive, she just couldn't find it in her to press on.

Valia was right, Ciego too. Hell, all of them were right; she was good for nothing.

Perhaps things would have been different if her mask hadn't been fragmented again. Were that the case, she wouldn't have known how to stop fighting in the first place. Ciego wouldn't have been able to toss her around so easily either. If only she could...

Fiera shook her head, realizing she could. She knew how, but she didn't want to, she didn't want to let the savage back in. It was hard enough keeping it out now. If she embraced it again, would she be able to send it back?

_ "Just accept what you are...stop trying to cover it up...you're an animal, just like us."_

Still, if she didn't do anything, surely the lot of them would be killed here, and then her siblings would undoubtedly move on Soul Society next. Everyone would be slaughtered.

_"I'll be waiting when you come back, Wrath. Then we can go home."_

The sound of Largo's voice in her head made her heart pinch. If she chose to be a coward now, he would suffer for it. Him, and Hanataro, that human girl she didn't know, and the sickly shopkeeper she'd given her own blood to save. Innocent people that had never done her any harm would be in danger. Fiera wanted that even less than to give up her free will.

"No, little brother," she said after a moment, finally finding the gumption to get to her feet. "I cannot go home."

She knew at the first word of returning to Las Noches that she wouldn't be coming out again. Just a feeling that it would be the last thing she would ever do. But that was all right, at least she thought so in the beginning. She didn't want to lose what little she had, but it was often the way of things. At the very least, she decided, she would go on her own terms, and not at the whim of her pompous brother. That meant going on her feet, not on her back.

She slipped off one of the greaves, reaching into her tattered yukata. She cut open her side, prying the edges of the wound apart to grab hold of one of her own ribs and tear it out, and then allowed some blood to pool in her hand. After it sealed, she smeared the blood along the jagged seam of her mask, allowing the process of repairing bone to begin before offering up her rib as more material. The change over her was immediate.

The monster of the petrified forest was coming back and, if it was even possible, worse than before.

Devorar was forced to pause as he felt the surge of reiatsu come from seemingly out of nowhere. He was currently holding open Gusano's great jaws, wrestling with the beast to keep from being snapped in half. With a hard punch to the snout after forcing him to the floor, Devorar was able to give more attention to that certain something that just sent a hot shiver up his back.

Everyone, even the lions stalled to see that the chamber was beginning to fill with hot air and red mist, eventually reaching waist high and leaving its source unseen. Then came the piercing, bellowing roar heralded by white hot flames. And there it was, Wrath in all her terrible madness. The mask was near whole again, now with a bottom jaw that mimicked Wrath's movements. The bear had regained all its teeth, its size, and the Rage Aura poured from its pores. Bright golden eyes glared through the broken sockets, shimmering with murderous intent towards Devorar.

They all looked upon this new creature with grave uncertainty. What was going to happen now?

Devorar felt his heart starting to pound with the onset of fear. So much was his attention divided that it was Azar who forced him to step aside as Gusano struck at him, and it was Azar's influence that bid a lion to attack the serpent's exposed neck.

"Wake up, Ciego! We don't have time for you to be afraid!" he demanded.

"Quiet, brother, or I'll toss you out so _you_ can deal with her." Ciego growled back.

"What do we do?" Valia sounded terrified, frail.

"She's still nothing more than a beast, and beasts of no value are to be put down!" he went to his remaining Fraccion, grabbing hold of him by the collar of his uniform. Devorar shattered Judecca's mask with a single, heavy blow with his fist.

"_SAY IT_!" Devorar commanded.

Judecca saw the fear in his master's eyes and found himself frightened as well. But only for an instant.

"Murder... _Espada de la Noveno Infierno_!"

Judecca became a weapon only Devorar could wield, mostly as it was easily as long and as thick as he was. A long, jagged blade made from solid ice was held by a golden handle, the hilt and pommel decorated with the foul grimaces of screaming souls. Now he had no fear, now he had the strength to stand against his feral sibling. Something he found to be far more of a challenge than he initially thought. Wrath was able to disappear and reappear with almost no effort at all, and did so in quick succession to confuse him. Even with three pairs of eyes he could barely keep up. And he found his sword to be cumbersome, not nearly fast enough to cleave Wrath as he would like.

Grimmjow sliced the lion attacking Gusano into three pieces, separating the head from the torso, and the torso from its ass end. He kicked at the newly formed pieces, laughing a bit at how they tried to find one another. The sea serpent became the worm again, unable to hold his released form any longer.

"Thanks for the help," Ranza showed reluctant gratitude.

"I'll send you the bill. So what should we do now, I mean," he looked over his shoulder. "Should we just let her handle it?"

"I'd be afraid to get in her way." Ranza shook his head. "My god,"

Grimmjow wouldn't show it, but he was concerned as well. This new Fiera...was it permanent? What if it was?

"Come on," Ranza began again. "Let's go help the Soul Reapers."

Grimmjow grumbled. "If we _have_ to,"

And it was probably for the best that they had, as the Shinigami were just able to hold their own against the last three lions. Just when they thought the cowardice of that first glance with them had passed, beast and man would again look at one another, the fear returning anew to their hearts. It was a vicious cycle. The Arrancar cut the lions off at the limbs, leaving them unable to move any longer. After being dispatched this way, much like the last one, they became spirits once more and returned to their master's keeping. They left empty shells behind.

"Thank you again," Toshiro stood, trying to catch his breath. He was also rubbing his eyes, the mist having started to make them burn.

"We're in this together, remember?" Ranza replied as he helped Soifon to stand. One of her ankles had been mangled by one of the lions relentless in trying to rip it off. "You all right?"

"I'll be fine." Soifon nodded. "We can't keep this up much longer. We need to end it."

"I don't think it would be a good idea to make another move until we see how this turns out." Grimmjow suggested as he watched Devorar and Wrath duke it out. _Beat him like he owes you money, baby._

"We can't wait that long!" Soifon argued. "We have to stop them _now_!"

"Wrath can handle it!" Ranza countered. "You've got to trust her!"

"No I don't." and the she disappeared in a ripple of air, using flash step to advance on Devorar herself.

He felt it. Just as Wrath was about to lance his head with her claws he felt the Shinigami move, and saw it through Valia's eyes. The reiatsu shifted behind him and he bent his knees, removing him from harm. The Shinigami materialized, Suzumebachi on her hand as if to use it on Devorar. Imagine the look on her face when he suddenly disappeared from view, leaving only Wrath to meet her attack. The two collided, rolling to the floor.

"I have had it _up to HERE_ with the whole God-damned lot of you!" Devorar fumed.

Wrath stood, quickly twisting back onto all fours, snarling at her brother. Apparently she had no sense of urgency towards the elegant butterfly mark on her belly that wasn't there before the Soul Reaper crashed into her.

"You know, Aizen wasn't exactly on the mark when he gave me the name Pride." Devorar smirked, the expressions on the other faces showing a sense of confusion. "My real sin...is _treachery_!"

Valia and Azar started to scream as if in a world of pain so far unvisited by anything or anyone. As Ciego laughed from his very belly, he absorbed his other two siblings into himself, leaving his influence as the only one. He was now a far more concentrated form of Hollow, a _Vasto Lorde_. He was now stronger, faster, more able to do what he loved: kill.

This new transformation made no difference to Wrath, she still hated him all the same. She went after him again as if nothing had changed. But something had. Now Wrath could barely lay a claw on him, his ability to swing his sword having increased so greatly. Devorar cut her across the thighs, down the shoulder, and pierced one side. But she still kept coming, popping in and out of sight in attempts to slice him from crotch to collar bone. Devorar nearly destroyed the throne in his attempts to cut her down.

They were an even match now, neither gaining ground against the other. Ciego brought the blade down, Wrath catching it in her claws and holding it firm above her head. Should her grip waiver, she would surely die, but that wasn't likely to happen. She had to find a way to step over him. He could not advance his powers any further, but she still could. Wrath searched for the words that had to be there, trying to remember how to speak through the savage madness.

"_Enrage_," the word was erose and hard coming. "_OSO CORAJE_!"

Devorar stumbled back from the pillar of flame that erupted where Wrath was standing, the reiatsu shift was enormous. Sweat was rolling down his face from the heat, and droplets of water dripped from the tip of his blade.

When the inferno disappeared, and all that remained was a column of smoke, there came a sound that rattled the palace's very foundations. Then out lumbered the newly released Arrancar, now standing almost twenty feet high and covered in dark red fur. The hole in her belly now took up a large part of her torso, which ended at the waist to become the latter half of a massive bear. The greaves had changed as well, becoming hairless and hard as steel, three long blade-like claws jutting forward. Fire and smoke came billowing out of the skeletal maw.

Ciego looked up, feeling his courage faltering. Out of panic he fired the mightiest cero he could muster from the lion's mouth in his chest. At first he thought it worked, but his expression fell when Oso Coraje brushed it aside, allowing it to hit the ceiling before detonating. Sunlight came pouring in from the new opening as dust and stone fell away.

"Stay away from me!" he cried, swinging his sword.

With one set of claws Oso Coraje knocked the blade from his hand, and ran him through the stomach with the other. The lions on his armor began screaming and writhing just like their master. Oso Coraje shoved him against his shattered throne, stabbing him again and again as blood began to sputter from his mouth.

Something strange began to happen as Ciego was forced that much closer to death. His form became misshapen, obscured with the growing of extra limbs and features. Eventually both Azar and Valia fell away from Ciego, robbing him of any of his greater powers, leaving him no longer as Devorar. They were already dead.

Ciego looked up at his sister pitifully, sniveling, claws sticking through his guts as he reached upward in a gesture of begging. Clearly she had none for him. She glared at him with empty sockets before opening her mouth, unleashing a hell's worth of flames upon him. He thrashed and cried, and then abruptly ceased. All that was left of him were his hands and feet, all the rest had been turned to dust. The throne was left red hot and smoking.

Even though the threat was finally extinguished, the tension in the room was thick even as the red mist began to dissipate. With Ciego dead, why hadn't Wrath sealed again? Everyone flinched when she turned, thinking she was about to attack them, but she remained still.

Grimmjow was the first to move. The others were on pins and needles waiting to see what would happen. Wrath watched him like a hawk as he drew close, sheathing his sword and holding out his empty hands.

"Fight's over, big gal. You got 'em."

Wrath bent down, curious, as if he was something completely new. With a small puff of smoke coming out she sniffed him, only after that did she find him familiar. He chanced to touch the bony cheek, hopeful she would allow him.

"That's a girl. Let's get the hell out of here, what do you say?"

There was a low growl as a reply. But this tender moment was only so long.

"Sit upon the frozen skies, Hyorinmaru."

Oso Coraje reared up with an angry snarl at the feel of the temperature sharply dropping. She zeroed in on the Soul Reaper now surrounded by ice, his sword covered in it. Feeling imminent danger she charged him, the only thing she knew to do. He waited for the last possible second before swinging his Zanpakuto in downward arc as he jumped away, a wall of ice soaring through the air and hitting the Arrancar in the shoulder. The ice immediately set, freezing one arm in place, tight to Wrath's side. This didn't stop her, she began swiping at him with her other set of claws, chasing him down as he hopped around her so quickly. Ice began to pile up.

"Ranza, stop him!" Grimmjow roared as he drew his sword. He'd lost sight of the other Soul Reaper, something he didn't like in slightest bit. That feeling increased when he realized the butterfly mark was still on Wrath's body. He needed to find that little bitch and fast.

Ranza went after Toshiro with all speed, doing his best to at least divert his attention away from Wrath.

"What are you doing?" he shouted angrily as his blade met Hitsugaya's.

"Following orders," was his answer.

"Don't give me that shit! Stop this right now!"

"I can't! This is how it has to be!"

"Says who?" he had to know why this was happening, who to blame. Why, after all they'd done to get this far, were the Shinigami suddenly turning on them?

While Ranza had the kid busy, Grimmjow was doing his best to cut the ice away from Wrath, hating the sound she was making as it burned her. Still no sight of Soifon. She had to be around here somewhere. _Don't worry, baby, I won't let them hurt you anymore._

He pried a large chunk from her lower shoulder when he felt the ripple, just like when she'd disappeared before. He quickly moved towards the butterfly mark, knowing in that a second or two the ripple would happen again and Soifon would reappear. He ran up the length of Wrath's spine, to her upper shoulder, and jumped, pulling back one tightened fist.

Soifon could see her target when she came out of the flash step, Suzumebachi ready to finish what her fortunate accident had started. Then she felt a heavy impact to the top of her head and everything went black just before she crashed head first into the hard marble floor.

"We have to get them away from her!" Grimmjow called across the chamber as he picked up the unconscious Soul Reaper.

"Right behind you," he'd managed to get Hitsugaya in the sleeper and was putting the squeeze on him until he went still. He didn't hurt the little guy, just put him down for a nap is all. "Let's book."

"I'll be back for you." He said to Wrath in a hushed tone, before dashing out of the chamber after the prince.

Wrath lay there propped against the wall for a while, the chamber having gone staggeringly quiet. She could feel the red hot power fading, her release state coming to its end after what felt like such a long time. Steadily she shrank, fur fell off, and she slumped onto her backside once the change was done. Her clothes were ripped, charred, and stained with blood, as was the once white fur that laid against her neck and shoulders.

Fiera focused through the red haze, the nagging whispers in her head to get up, to kill something else. She found the dwindling potency to lift her heavy hands, raising them to the muzzle of her mask and grabbing hold of it. She squeezed and pulled, heard the bone cracking, and then felt the tight pressure in her body ease as it broke away with a loud _pwoof_ of red mist.

She took a deep breath of cold air, wincing as she blinked her eyes clear. It came as no surprise to see the throne room as such a mess, or to see the bodies of her siblings and sons on the floor. She remembered it all surprisingly well, and she actually found pleasure in recalling the polaroids of Ciego's death, hearing his screams as echoes. At last three of them were gone, and she had lived to see it. There was a small modicum of joy in that.

However, even with that, this mess wasn't quite over.

Fiera stood when she felt a flicker of new reiatsu, new but familiar. With shoulders still hanging she turned her head, seeing someone huddled by Valia's body. It was one of her last remaining sons, the one with no name that never spoke.

The Fraccion raked his scalp with his fingers, frantic and fretful. His mistress was dead, the woman who loved him and gave him purpose was gone. Muffled sounds were coming from his throat, tears in his eyes. He paced madly for several moments, constantly looking back at the corpse and grabbing at his hair. Then he looked up and spotted her, grief changing to fury. He started beating himself about the head, fists pounding his own face until his mask chipped, and then finally cracked. Pieces fell away, sharp teeth, and his mouth was then free to move.

With hot tears streaming down his face he cried out loud. "Pull, _Mesura_!" It was a terrible, knifelike wail.

He ripped open his uniform to reveal a flawless, unending blackness where his torso should have been. It was a vacuum whose pull was only growing. Soon it was picking up bits of rock, ice, and the golden remains of Devorar's lions, sucked it right up and leaving no trace of it ever being or where it went once out of sight. The force kept growing, now able to pick up the large sheets of stone that fell from the ceiling as well as the corpses and other remains. The throne was threatening to be uprooted.

She didn't want to do it, but knew she must. She was gripping hard to the wall, her claws all the way in so she wouldn't be carried away by the rampant gravity. After him, Ranza would be her only son. She was tired of killing her family, having to watch them die at all. But it was the way things had to be.

That is how life often is, especially for Arrancar. And, in the end, even if no one could believe it, she was doing exactly what Aizen made her to do.

Fiera carefully made her way forward, keeping close to the wall so she would always have an anchor. She reached the end, where the room opened up to provide for the throne that was now gone, and waited for the perfect moment. When it came, she let go, feeling herself being uplifted and pulled forward at increasing speed. Just when she felt the gravity starting to bend her body in half, she willed herself to move, through the mist, from one place to another.

Fiera reappeared just behind him, too fast for him to move, too fast for him to stop the claws ripping through his back and into his heart. Her other arm had circled his neck, holding him up as he expired, making sure he didn't fall. When his power died out, his heart stopping, she gently set him onto his back. His eyes had closed.

"I am sorry, my son." she sighed quietly, feeling deep sadness for perhaps the first time. "Could it have been different, I..." a tear fell down her cheek.

Then everything suddenly stopped, and her insides went cold. She felt the burn of ice and a heaviness in her chest. Breathing was suddenly difficult. She looked down, seeing the tip of Ciego's blade running through her and into the floor. At first she found it curious, not entirely sure what this could possibly mean, but the realization slowly came. Her insides were starting to freeze up, and soon her heart would stop.

Fiera fell onto her side, not heavily, but with enough momentum to almost roll onto her back. The only thing keeping her was the other end of the sword. From there she could see who it was she would be calling murderer...or messiah.

With the yo-yo affect of reiatsu going on in the chamber, it had been very easy for Ptolomaea to hide his presence after passing off one of his doubles as himself. Even when all the snow and ice had gone he was able to remain concealed. He watched the battle from wherever it was he'd been, and waited for the moment when he could fulfill his master's task. And he used Judecca, who had surrendered his life simply by using his release, to do so. He had consummated his purpose for existing, just as Lord Aizen had intended. Still, in spite of his motivations, he felt the need to remain near her. Perhaps there was a part of him that felt a sort of connection to her. A sort of sentiment or pity.

Fiera found herself dwelling on the last few weeks, feeling the need to relive it once more. She remembered the forest that was, for so long, her home. She thought of Seireitei and all its green and living things. She remembered the rain and the pleasure it brought to feel it for the first time. Then came the mental pictures of people, mostly people she knew and cared for, or at the very least didn't hate.

Ranza, Neliel, the Espada that had returned in mortal form, they came first. Then were the few Shinigami she had come to tolerate, not necessarily like. Her siblings and sons followed as well. After that it was difficult. She thought of Hanataro, Largo, the little pink haired Soul Reaper that was always so happy. She thought about the things they did together, how they had accepted her, and how she would never see them again. She never thought the idea would be so painful now, when it hadn't been when she considered it before. She hadn't had the heart to tell any of them before that she didn't intended to return. Perhaps that was better.

And then there was Grimmjow.

She winced hard, growling with a whimper at the cold pain. All the while her son watched, seeming curious.

The thought of Grimmjow, the crystal clear picture of him in her head, made her think back to something else, something more recent.

What she had experienced while under Mascarada's spell.

The smiling mask was meant to keep the wearer in a comatose state where they would know nothing more than their wildest dreams. It would be their reality. Fiera saw everything she had never realized she'd wanted.

All of her sons were around her, happy, able to speak, and each had his own name. They called her mother. And Hanataro, Largo, Yachiru, all of them were there, hugging her. The place they were was so beautiful, a forest full of life and green with spring time. And then there was Grimmjow, and it was when he came to stand beside her in the dream that she realized she was no longer so large, so monstrous. He was carrying something in his arms, a tiny bundle that squirmed and made little sounds. It was a newborn with bright blue hair.

Fiera began to cry quietly, knowing she would never have any of that. Her only son most likely hated her for pushing him away, and he had every right. Even if she were to survive, she could never go back to Seireitei, so there was no seeing Hanataro or Yachiru. And Grimmjow...he didn't love her, not like in the dream. Perhaps this was best then. Living was just too painful. Far too full of disappointment. Life as a, what you might call, normal being was something she just could not do. There was no place for her.

Another failure.

Besides, this legacy of Sin needed to end. It had gone on for too long already.

She felt it coming, her last breath as her lungs started to freeze. Her pulse was starting to weaken, her fingertips and toes numb. Her breath was coming out as a mist, like anyone's would on a winter day.

Ptolomaea tilted his head to one side, still looking down at her with interest. Then...

"Mother." it wasn't a question, the beginning of a request or statement. It was like he was trying the word out.

Fiera looked up at him for a brief moment, as if meaning to answer. But she could not.

Her heart was too cold to continue beating and stopped.

_(–)_

Grimmjow saw the blast as he was running back to Las Noches, leaving Ranza to step through a garganta with the Shinigami. The shock wave knocked him on his ass, never mind that he was easily several hundred yards away. Las Noches was caught up in a bright flash of light and energy, a massive detonation that left only a charred crater in its wake.

"_FIERA_!" he screamed as he scrambled to his feet. He kept running, thinking there was a chance even after he saw that there was nothing left to save. "_FIERA_!" he cried again.

But how...how could this have happened? She was fine when he left!

Grimmjow stumbled down the steep sides of the crater, rolling head over heals in his needless hurry. Soot smeared all over him, turning his uniform almost black. When he reached the bottom he started digging, tearing away at sand and dirt that was still hot from the blast. Digging and digging until, finally, he accepted the fact that he would find nothing. No remains, no trace regardless of how small, just...nothing. He stayed there on his knees for a long while, his chest heaving as sweat rolled down his chest and neck.

She was gone. Almost like she never was.

And even after all the fear mongering, the nervous whispers and rumors, the clandestine meetings of Soul Society's finest, the blast hadn't been nearly as big as everyone was led to believe. Perhaps yet another of Aizen's little white lies.

Grimmjow hung his head as he made his way back, feeling like he was carrying a two ton weight on his back. He had to open a second garganta, and stepped through it with as little enthusiasm as he could get away with.

He reentered Seireitei greeted by a mass of people bordering on a mob. The walls had been defended, the demons pushed back, and everyone had gathered to welcome the conquering heroes back from Hueco Mundo. All of the noise was just that, noise. He couldn't distinguish much of anything, his senses dull. He could hear Ranza yelling, that was about all he could focus on.

"Tell me what you knew about this!" the prince shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Soifon and Toshiro, who had only come to some moments ago.

Unohana looked at him, feeling the need to speak yet not knowing what to say. He had explained the events leading up to now, and she was baffled.

He was seething, his cheeks reddened with fervor. "Somebody knows, and _somebody_ better own up right-fucking-_now_!" he sounded like a man ready to take on the world to find out. He stepped up to Toshiro, barely inches apart. "Whose orders?" he growled.

The Soul Reaper was quiet his eyes averted.

"_Whose orders_?"

"Yamamoto-sotaichou." Soifon spoke for him. She almost sounded rather proud of herself. "We were to dispatch the Arrancar once the job was done, destroy Hueco Mundo along with it."

Ranza looked at her, eyes wide in disgust and disbelief. "You'd blow us all to hell; yourselves?"

"If it meant the lives of others," Soifon answered. "We would gladly surrender ours."

His jaw hung open, his brow tightening. "You're all a bunch of damned lunatics! Every single fucking one of you!"

"Ranza."

He turned to see Grimmjow standing there. Why was he alone? Ranza exchanged an unsteady glance with Nel, who was standing in the crowd of onlookers.

Grimmjow tried to speak, unable to look up. "S-sorry, man. It's just...there's nothing left."

"What?" Ranza could feel his throat tightening. "What do you mean?"

"Bastards got what they wanted. It's all gone." he shook his head.

It was silent as a tomb and the air grew heavy. Nel pushed her way between several people to reach Ranza, having felt his anger turning into something else, something painful. She watched him as he started to shake, one of his hands drifting towards his sword.

"Don't do it," she whispered, grabbing his wrist. "Please don't."

His jaw was clenching so hard his teeth were hurting. He was entertaining the idea of blowing this whole place to hell. Fifty million things were going through his mind at a mile-a-minute, and all of them were probably bad ideas.

"Ranza, you're back!"

He turned just in time to catch Largo as he flung himself forward, the boy so happy to see his friend again.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, little buddy, I'm fine." He set Largo down and knelt in front of him, his big hands on the boy's little shoulders.

"Where's Wrath?" he asked, looking around in hopes of spotting her.

Ranza didn't know it, but Hanataro was standing nearby as well, listening for the answer he would give.

"Look, kid, I," it was suddenly so hard to get his tongue working. "...She didn't make it."

Largo looked at him with confusion, his head to one side. "But...you mean,"

Ranza nodded his head.

"But...we were going to go home," the tears were coming, his voice now a whimper. "What happened?"

Ranza looked over the boy's head, his eyes going from one Soul Reaper to another. "_You_ want to tell him?" he asked aloud, his voice like a switchblade. Unohana looked to be the only one affected by his tone, her expression faltering and her heart hitching. Soifon and Toshiro apparently were having trouble seeing what they'd done that was meant to make them feel guilty.

Hanataro put his hand over his mouth when he saw Largo put his face to Ranza's shoulder, his chest heaving with sobs. He'd heard what Ranza said, but it just didn't sink in until he saw Largo start to cry. All he could do was turn and walk away. He headed back to his room, not wanting everyone and their mother to see him like this.

"Ranza," Nel knelt down beside him. "Yamamoto has given Largo permission to stay if he chooses. What do you think?"

He wanted to say no. He didn't like the idea one fucking bit; what if they were going to do the same to him? Keep him, look after him, raise him until he was no longer of use or they grew to fear him, and then stab him in the back? How could he make himself trust them after this? Still, it wasn't his choice. Largo was old enough to make the decision for himself.

He pushed Largo up to stand on his own, waited for the boy to wipe his face before speaking. "Listen buddy. They're going to let you stay if you want to."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. But if you do, we won't get to see each other anymore. They'll be taking care of you from now on. Is that what you want?"

"What if I want to leave?"

"Then you can come with me and Nel. I don't know where we'll go or what we'll do, but we'll do it together."

Largo looked down, thinking, and then looked back at him. "Would you be mad if I wanted to stay?"

"Not in the least." Ranza shook his head. "I'd miss you though."

"...I want to stay with Nana." he said finally. "Can I?"

"Sure you can, buddy."

Ranza stood up, Largo by his side as he stepped up to Unohana. He looked coldly at the Shinigami for several tense moments.

"If it were up to me," he started, "I wouldn't let him come within a thousand miles of this place ever again. Even now I don't think I trust leaving him with you. But," he looked down at Largo. "It's not up to me."

"I promise I will take good care of him."

"If I hear any different, you can bet I'll be back." it didn't sound like a promise, but a threat. A very serious one.

"Ranza, if I had known anything about this, I,"

"Save it." he interrupted, his eyes cutting. "You know, I really can't believe you people. She never meant any harm. Did you even try to tell your boss man what good she'd done?"

Unohana kept searching for the words, anything to say, but they just wouldn't come.

"What about the people she helped?" Ranza looked around him, spotting the red-headed human standing beside Ulquiorra among the throng. "You ever gonna tell that girl how Wrath saved her life? What about one of your own captains? How's he going to feel when he finds out how she died? Or are you going to cover it up?"

"Ranza, I am so sorry." Was all she could come up with.

"She was my mother. You actually think 'sorry' is supposed to cut it? " he laughed. "You people are fucking amazing. All she ever wanted was to be left alone." and then he bid Largo a last goodbye, hugging the boy before leaving. With a seemingly gracious, and silent bow, Nel followed him. No, she didn't wish to leave, having made several friends here, but it wouldn't be right to stay any longer. She was feeling betrayed as well, and without a sense of trust, there was no sense of welcome.

"You going to come, Grimmjow?" Ranza chanced to ask as he passed. "You're welcome to."

He was still feeling rather numb, almost missing that someone was speaking to him at all. "Nah, but I'll be on my way." he replied sluggishly. "Hey, Ranza?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever get the feeling that...you ever feel like you deserve someone else's bad luck?"

Ranza thought about it a moment, coming to know what he was referring to. "I do now. I'm sorry, man."

"Yeah. Me too." he nodded, a distant look in his eyes. "You two take care of yourselves, kay? Treat each other right."

"You can count on that." Ranza could almost feel his pain as he walked on, a heaviness coming over his heart. He could see it in Grimmjow's face that he was hurting something terrible.

And the three of them separated outside the gates of Seireitei, each stepping through their own garganta.

Author's Note: Got this out right quick and in a hurry. Damn. Anyway, last chapter is coming up, and all will be settled. UlquiHime is finally coming. I actually feel kind of doofy because that was one of the main reasons why I started writing this. Ah well, its how it goes sometimes. I can't write short stories or one shots if my life depends on it. Off to Chapter 26 now, enjoy!


	26. Chapter 26

**Sinners and Saints**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"_As far as Beelzebub as the limit of his tomb...we climbed until...I saw the lovely things the heavens hold, and we came out to see once again the stars." The Inferno: Canto XXXIV, verses 127, 128, 136, 138-139_

It had taken four months for him to gather enough interest to go see the remains of Las Noches for himself. Under the cover of darkness he made his way, coming out of the garganta in the middle of the desert, a ways away from the fabled crater. It was twilight now, giving him just enough light to see by as he walked. He could hear the beginning of Hueco Mundo's night time sounds, Hollows in the distance calling and howling. But all of them were from a moderate distance, so he was not concerned with it.

He was forced to admit that he wasn't entirely impressed with the big hole in the sand. He had expected something a great deal bigger, had expected all of Hueco Mundo to be vaporized. Oh well, guess good old Aizen fibbed.

He carefully scaled down the edges of the depression until he reached the bottom, finding the epicenter of the blast. He stood there a moment, taking in the sheer size of the new geological feature. He didn't make much of it, knowing a hearty sandstorm would just fill it in. To think Aizen had gone through all that work just to have it reduced to nothing and forgotten.

After standing there a while he noticed something, a light and steady tapping sort of feeling. He felt it in his feet, encouraging him to kneel and, out of sheer curiosity, put his ear to the ground. Yes, there it was, a fragile pulsing like a heartbeat from within the womb. That couldn't be reiatsu, could it? He thought about it a moment, puzzling and puzzling over many thoughts debating as to what it was. Finally he sated his curiosity and started digging. The soil was hard pressed and tightly packed, making the first initial penetration difficult with his bare hands. Then it was easy as he pulled away handfuls of the dirt. Perhaps eight inches down he felt something cold to the touch. Had Grimmjow only gone a little further he would have found it instead.

Carefully he dug the object out, finding it to be an odd shaped chunk of ice, four months old and having yet to melt.

"Curiouser and curiouser." he mused as he looked it over. There was something at the center of it, something dark colored. In any case, he was sure this was the source of the flickering spirit energy. He decided to take it with him, looking for the proper place to take a closer look at it.

_(II)_

Urahara was happy to be home again after being away for so long. Much of his illness had resolved, leaving him with only a stubborn cough and a stuffy nose. That and he was still, more or less, confined to his room. He wasn't contagious, but his employees simply refused to let him leave his bed. With that being said, you can guess the delight he felt upon receiving visitors. Yoruichi was very faithful in coming every day to see him, bringing him a fresh pot of tea.

"You're looking better today, Kisuke."

"I feel it." he replied. "For a while there I never thought it would go away."

"You were lucky." she said as she sat down, handing him his cup.

"I have no doubt of that." he nodded before taking a sip. "I guess I'm just a fortunate man."

"Hm," Yoruichi swallowed. "All the right people seem to like you."

"Oh? Like who?" he really wanted know. He'd missed quite a bit after all.

"One of the Arrancar donated her blood to help you get well. That's how we were able to bring you home so soon."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, making more clear the dark circles still clinging beneath his eyes. "That was awfully generous. Hope you thanked her for me."

"Didn't think about it at the time," Yoruichi almost sounded regretful. " I was so concerned for you...too late now."

"Is it? That's a shame." he shook his head, sipping the last of his tea before presenting his cup for a refill.

"Yeah. From what I heard it was a pretty nasty affair."

Urahara honestly didn't want to hear the details, not wanting to deal with anything depressing just yet. "What about the others? Anything from them recently?"

"Last I heard from Halibel and Starrk they had moved to America."

"All the way out there?" he made a face. "What on earth for?"

"I don't know if it's true, just a rumor really. And Ulquiorra is still with Orihime."

"That's wonderful, I had hoped he would." he smiled as though pleased with himself. "Awful cute couple, don't you think?"

"Eh, they're good kids." she smiled.

"Are Ichigo and Rukia still together? I heard they were going through a rough patch here lately."

"They're fine," she started, taking another sip. "Although I think Byakuya put the fear of God into him a week or so ago. The three of them had this long talk, and I guess it was something pretty important."

"Maybe they'll get married."

"Yeah, and Yamamoto will walk around Seireitei in a fluffy pink robe and matching bunny slippers."

Urahara choked a little on his tea, adoring the mental image her skepticism had given him. What a sight that would be!

"Still, all things accounted for, it sounds like things a getting back to normal." Urahara sighed. "What happened to the jewel?"

"Damned if I know."

In reality, Ranza had forgotten the gem was still in his pocket. As far as anyone knew, he still had it, and he and Nel were nowhere to be found for four months now.

"I suppose I shouldn't worry about it, so long as it isn't causing any more trouble." Urahara let the matter escape him, not wanting to think about it. He thought to change the subject to something still relevant, another matter he was still rather curious about. "So, you said there were seven of these Arrancar, how many of them are left?"

"Just one, as far as I know. The littlest one."

"I see. I would have liked to see all of them."

"You saw most of them." Yoruichi reminded him. "You didn't miss much."

He nodded. "And Las Noches is gone?"

"Just a skid mark. At least that's the word from the grapevine. In any case it's real quiet now. No activity, not so much as peep."

"I suppose that's something to be thankful for. And Seireitei?"

"Still there."

"Is something bugging you, darling?"

"Hm," she stretched her arms over her head, grunting. "Guess I'm just a bit tired."

Urahara glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing it was in the early afternoon. "Ah, perfect, it's nap time."

Without him even having to suggest it, Yoruichi pushed off her shoes and curled up beside him. Always the lap cat, he found her absolutely adorable. He shifted onto his side, tossing half of the blanket over her before nestling against her back. One arm draped over her stomach, his other hand twining in her long hair. Her scent was warm and comforting.

"You know," he said after stifling a yawn. "I never lost faith in you. I knew you'd come for me."

"I couldn't leave you there to die. What a ridiculous thought." she countered with a slight miff in her tone, her eyes closed.

"Of course, silly me." he laughed quietly. "Now hush, kitten, and rest."

_(–)_

Karakura had been somewhat trashed while they were away. A few buildings burned down and almost every single house was broken into by God knows what. But it wasn't anything that couldn't be repaired in time. The citizens that had evacuated eventually returned, content to rebuild without asking how or why, happy there was still something to come back to.

It had taken quite a while for Orihime to finish fixing up her place. The door had been ripped off its hinges, the furniture demolished, and almost all of the windows had been shattered. The windows were the hardest thing to replace; for a while she had to board them over to keep the weather out. With some effort, smart money management, and several trips to the local consignment shops, she was able to replace everything. Sure, now her sofa was an absolute eyesore that looked like Disney threw up on it, but aside from that everything was in its place. At the very least it would do for the time being.

Orihime set the lamp for the side table back into place and plugged it in, standing back as if to oversee her great works. Of course, no end piece in the world could take away from the piercing fugliness of the couch, but at least everything was back where it belonged. The electricity was back on, had been for a few weeks, the water was running again, life seemed normal.

Ulquiorra walked into the living room from the hallway, wiping his hands with a paint stained rag. "I have finished." he said.

"Me too." she replied happily. She laughed a little when she saw him, seeing some white paint smudged on his face. It was easy to miss with the natural pallor of his skin.

"What is it?" he lifted one curious eyebrow as she walked towards him, wiping one finger across his cheek. She presented it to him that he might see what made her laugh. "Ah."

"Got a little eager with the brush, huh?"

"Oh yes, so exciting."

The way he said that made her laugh again. It was almost like sarcasm was a new concept to her.

"What else is there to do?" he asked while wiping his face. "Anything?"

"No, I think we've got it all covered." she nodded. "I'm hungry."

"Hmm, yes," his voice sounded rather peculiar when he said this. "Hungry."

"I'll have to go to the market then. Everything in the refrigerator spoiled after the power was cut off." and she headed back into her room to change, not wanting to go out in public in dirty clothes. She didn't hear Ulquiorra follow behind her, nor did she hear her door click shut.

Orihime crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her shirt to pull it up, stopping when she felt Ulquiorra's hands cover her own. She felt his solid chest against her back.

"I can't go anywhere like this," she laughed a little. "I thought you were hungry?"

"I am," his whisper was hot against her ear. "But I do not want food."

"Th-then," she swallowed as he kiss along the curve of her neck to her shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Must I spell it out for you, woman?" he sighed with a hint of a growl. "Honestly."

Orihime felt a spark shoot up her back. One of his hands was working beneath her shirt and he other was holding one of her wrists, pressing her palm to his cheek. His kisses were demanding, hot and heavy against her skin. He nipped the tender lobe of her ear, pinching it just so.

"Ulquiorra," she breathed, her fingers tightening in his hair.

"Isn't this what you want?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. "Tell me."

Like he actually had to ask. Of course this is what she wanted, more than her next breath. She was already smoldering inside, her blood was like fire and they had only just begun.

He'd been holding it in for weeks, easily months. Ulquiorra had forced himself to shove down all the desire, the lust, the aching and tuck it away until the right time. Now was the right time, now when all of those contained emotions had coalesced into a steady burn in his belly. No more uncertainty, no reservations, no more stalling.

"Can I have you, Onna?" for a brief moment he wondered if it would matter whether or not she answered. His breath trembled as his hand eased further up her shirt, gently gripping one supple breast. "Please,"

She shivered hard at his request, she tugged at his hair as he other hand squeezed his thigh. She felt his tongue along her jaw and her knees threatened to give. And image popped in her head of falling flat on her face, Ulquiorra laughing at her. Thank God it was just a thought.

"Answer me."

A groan escaped her, her body arching against his. His hand fanned across her belly, sliding down to the waist of her khaki shorts. His fingers searched and tried to undo the button.

"Must I take the answer for myself? Give it to me, Orihime." His tone shifted from dominant to begging. He wanted her so badly, he had to have her now. He had been patient for long enough.

Her heart fluttered and she grew weak, hearing her name coming from him. It was such a rarity it was like a mild shock, a deliciously sharp charge. She twisted in his arms to face him, cupping both his cheeks in her hand so she could properly crush his lips with her own. Their kisses were intent, filled with all the frustration and pent up desire for one another. Tongues twined, arms circled and tightened, and bodies pressed together.

"Undress me," he groaned, taking a brief moment to breathe.

Orihime smiled, filled with delight. In her heart of hearts, she had always wanted to do this but never had the courage to say. If she were as strong as she was enthusiastic, she would have ripped his clothing clean off. Not that it would be serious problem, right?

Ulquiorra felt himself black out for a split second when her soft warm hands against his bare chest. Goosebumps puckered his skin, and he groaned again at the sweet torture. He didn't wait for her to ask, or bothered to ask for permission as he started to remove her clothes as well. He was officially tired of waiting.

"Wait," she stammered, pushing on his chest. He looked at her with such a damning expression, his eyes set fierce and unblinking. Like he was looking to say "what is wrong with you, woman?"

"I want to look at you." she admitted with a timid squeak.

So she didn't want to stop? Good. "Very well, look." he took a half step back and held out his arms, finding no shame that he was completely bare. In fact he found the idea rather...arousing.

"You approve?" he asked after a moment, a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth.

She only shook her head, chewing on one knuckle keeping her from speaking. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked him over, her gaze zeroing on exactly what you think it did. _Was this even going to work?_ She felt herself starting to fret over it.

"Now allow me to see you."

Her face flushed beat red, and she had the doe-in-the-headlights look on her face. "M-me? B-but,"

He came to stand closer to her, his form dwarfing. "Show me, woman." and he gripped her upper arms in a secure but light grasp.

She was standing with her legs crossed and her arms covering the rest of her, and she was starting to shiver as if cold. She wasn't cold, just nervous to have this imposing man looking down at her in the same way a predator would eye a piece of meat. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his head bent down, and his emerald eyes alight with desire made her want to melt. She couldn't decide if it would be over the terror or the lust. Probably a bit of both.

With a mite of tenderness Ulquiorra grabbed her wrists and pulled them away, allowing himself to see her breasts. They were perfect. Flushed nipples were perked upward, almost begging for his attention. He was feeling hungry again, but still only for this woman. He took one in each hand, squeezing, his fingers dimpling in the supple flesh. He wet his lips with his tongue before dipping his head, his eyes easing closed as he took a taste.

Orihime bit her lips against and ecstatic cry, gripping him hard to his back as his tongue swirled around one nipple, his fingers tending to the other.

"Do you enjoy this, Orihime?"

She was really starting to love hearing him say her name. That alone was making her feel hot and bothered. "Y-yes," she managed at last.

"Good," he purred against her chest. "Very good."

He demanded she kiss him again as he lifted her up, his hands now on her plump buttocks to carry her to the bed. Ulquiorra set her on her back, keeping his weight on his hands and knees before lying beside her. Her skin was hot to the touch with a fever, something he actually felt proud for causing in her. They would burn in it together, the only way he would ever have it.

"Touch me, woman. Please." and he watched her as she looked him over, curious and nervous, and then raised her hands to press them against his chest.

She started there, working upward along his neck and shoulders, into his hair and across his lips. He nipped at her fingertips, his eyes staying on her to see her reaction. She giggled loudly at the gesture, pulling her hands back as if in fear he would bite them off. She knew he was just playing. Playing? Ulquiorra never played. Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad time for him to start.

She started again once the jitters passed, now touching his toned stomach, feeling the swells and outlines of each abdominal muscles. They tensed and played under her inspection, his expression shifting and unsteady as pleasure raced through him. His brow tightened, his lips thinned as he bit them, and his eyes threatened to roll back as her hands eased lower and lower.

Orihime took hold of him with both hands and noticed an immediate response. His elbows half buckled as he let out a strangled moan. His eyes were tightly shut, giving his countenance the look of discomfort.

"What's wrong?" she almost panicked, releasing him. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," he shook his head, catching his breath. "I have...never felt that before. I didn't expect it."

"I'm sorry, I'll go slower."

"No," he grabbed her wrist again. "You're doing fine. Don't stop." and he guided her hand back to where it was.

Ulquiorra reveled in this new feeling, the hard tug on his loins, the burning in his heart for more. She was doing everything he hadn't realized would be right. Feather light touches to his thighs, the scrape of her nails, and her firm, steady grip on his member was lethally good. If it felt like this now, how would it be to take her?

But not just yet.

Before he it was too much, Ulquiorra asked her to release him. He nestled close to her, kissing her deeply and exploring her body once again with his hands. Orihime whimpered into his mouth when he fingers danced past her navel towards the apex of her thighs.

"Don't be so nervous." he whispered, trying to sound assuring.

"Sorry," she apologized, her face flushed and a bead of sweat rolling across her forehead. "I'm new at this."

"I know." he nodded. "I will take care of you."

She would have to dwell on his rare show of affection later, her mind suddenly clicking off-line for but a second as his hand curled between her legs. His fingers found her center and began to gently tease, not going so far as to slide into her as she was silently, desperately hoping.

"Ulquiorra!" she gasped, biting her knuckles against a rising scream.

"Don't hide it." he said, his eyes boring into her. "Go ahead, I wish to hear." He _needed_ to hear, the validity of his actions were depending on it. All he had was the most basic understand of how a woman's body functioned, vague ideas of where he should touch her. It was paying off so far, but he knew there was more for him to learn.

Ulquiorra felt the resurgence of gooseflesh as he felt the warmth of her center wash over him. It was a feeling he'd like to drown in. He didn't like how his mouth was idle, so he lowered himself once again to partake of her beasts. Licking, laving, until finally taking the hardened nub between his lips. Orihime writhed beneath him, sighs and groans that telegraphed her pleasure beautifully.

Orihime could feel it coming, a tightening in her womb that was only winding that much tighter in preparation to combust. Her core was aching to be touched, never mind how good she felt with what he was doing now. She was on the verge of demanding he be inside of her. She needed him so badly, worse than anything. Her heart was practically weeping to be closer to him.

He was listening intently to the noises she made, deciphering their meaning by their intensity and how often they occurred. Both of which were steadily increasing, and the pitch went up as well. Was she close orgasm? So soon? How curious humans could be, all of them so effortlessly different. If she were anyone else, which he shuddered to consider, her behavior would be worlds apart from this. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. She was, and always would be, his woman. He would see to that.

Orihime lifted her head, looking at him with the scandal of his removing his hand from her center. Although she loved how he grinned, seemingly amused at her expression.

"Forgive me," he almost laughed. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," her chest rose and fell in quick succession. "Please."

"Very well."

He wasn't going to ask how she liked it, chances are she knew as much about it as he did, which was to say hardly anything at all. Still, he showed a sense of confidence as he eased between her legs, feeling them circle around his waist and settle against the small of his back. Ulquiorra hovered over her, just taking her in.

"You are beautiful, Onna." he shook his head, his eyes full of wonder. "Could I stay with you?"

She looked at him, surprised that he felt the need to ask. "Of course, I wouldn't have brought you home with me if you couldn't."

"That's not what I mean." he shook his head, lowering himself to be closer. "This way. Can we stay like this? Could it just be you and I?"

Now she understood, and her heart melted. "If that's what you want."

"I do."

How could she possibly say no? After all, she wanted the exact same thing, regardless of whether or not she had the guts to say so out loud.

"Just you and me."

"Good." he nuzzled her neck, kissing her collarbone.

Orihime held him tightly as she felt his hips moving, her instincts knowing what he was about to do. She tried her best to stay focused on him, on the echo of his words through her head to keep her mind on the pain she somehow knew was coming. She'd heard the stories from friends, friends of friends, and heard it was the worst ever. It couldn't be, nothing worse than some of the agonies she had dealt with in the past.

And she was right. There was only the discomfort of stubborn muscles resisting as he pushed into her, his muffled growl overwhelming her tiny, wincing squeak. She found it almost surreal to think of him being inside her, like she was expecting to wake up any second now to find herself in bed alone. Even if this was just a dream, it was the best she could ever have.

Finally, Ulquiorra felt the relief in his mind, finally she was his. She belonged to him and no one else. Even if they ever went their separate ways, she would always remember him to be her first. His heart leaped at the first sensations his senses accepted when he entered her, a sweet vice-like grip and a smothering heat the went right through him. He held still for a moment, wanting to grow accustomed to these new feelings, wanting her to get used to him before he began again. His lust had him by the horns at this point, he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. Lord knows he didn't, but you understand.

"I'm all right." she assured him, petting his hair as his head rested against her chest.

"I am glad. You feel so good."

"S-so do you." it was better than good. They hadn't invented a word strong enough for it yet. "Please keep going."

"In a moment." he didn't want to feel rushed. There was a sense of sanctity to this moment, this occurrence that he didn't want to lose. He smoothed a strand of hair from her face, kissing her forehead, working his way to find her lips again.

He began moving, rocking his hips to and fro in a slow and even cadence. Ulquiorra could feel he was deep inside, could hear it in Orihime's gasping cries. She tore away from kisses to breathe. Her legs tightened around him, pressing him forward with more force than he intended. She didn't seem to mind it, actually looking to enjoy the added fervor. Ulquiorra raised up, propping himself on his hands, looking down at her through the few tresses of his hair that were stuck to his face. The heat in the room was near stifling. Or was it just them?

Orihime met his eyes, the vivid emerald sending a fresh charge of arousal through her. She pressed her palms to his chest, her fingers curling into him as he began thrusting a little faster. She reached up and touched his neck, loving how he dipped his head back to give her more. She could feel the hard pulsing of his arteries, the heavy pound of his heartbeat. He smiled wide, his eyes closed and a look of contentment on his face, a small groan escaping.

So this was it, he thought briefly, this is what mortals went so crazy over. He finally understood. Part of him wondered how he hadn't done this sooner.

Out of curiosity he took hold of her leg and raised it up, letting it hook over his shoulder as he bent forward. Her reaction was profound and instantaneous. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her body arched upward as the sensations intensified. If one was good, he thought, both was better. Which he found to be true. With both of her legs against him he leaned forward, pressing her knees closer to her shoulders while maintaining his rather swift thrusting.

"Ulquiorra!" she cried.

He watched her in amazement, seeming unable to believe that he was causing her to act this way. He continued without fail, feeling her body tightening around him. It drove him to go faster, send her higher, until she screamed. Ulquiorra gasped as her sex clenched and rippled around him, trying to stay away from the brink just a bit longer. He wasn't ready to be finished yet.

Orihime struggled to catch her breath, still riding the hazy wave of her climax. She was dizzy, her vision blurred, her hands searching for something to anchor to. She found his arms and gripped them tightly. Had she just died and returned to life all in the same moment? What a trip.

"Are you all right?" he panted, a drop of sweat falling from his chin.

"Y-yes." she replied, finding the coherency to nod her head. "That was amazing."

"And I am not yet finished." he grinned. "Unless you wish to stop now,"

She shook her head swiftly from left to right.

"As you wish." it was strange for him to sound so gracious. For a short moment he became disengaged, garnering a whimper from her because of his distance. He only moved to lay beside her, pulling her against him so they both lay on their side. After pulling her leg up to lay across his hip, he thrust smoothly into her. "There."

Orihime pressed her heated forehead to his, still trying to steady her breathing.

"Move with me, Onna." he said, his hand cupping her cheek as he looked her in the eyes.

She pulled him to her, capturing his lips while her hands tangled in his hair. One of his arms curled beneath her head, securing her closeness to him, while the other eased down her sides and gripped her buttocks, pulling, guiding her motions. He could feel her heel pressing into his back to push him forward.

Orihime tried to keep her eyes open, his movements inside of her making even that a difficult thing to do. She wanted to see his face, see how being here with her was effecting him. Just as he asked she was curling her hips into his when he thrust, pulled them back as he did. Now he was the one making all the noise, and this only served to flare her own passion. And this new position offered very tight quarters, she could feel him pressing on the sweet spot at her core.

My God it was so good. It came as a bit of a surprise how attentive he'd been with her. To be quite honest she hadn't expected it, thinking their first time wouldn't be nearly as intimate as this.

"Orihime," he grunted, his brow tightening and his breathing becoming uneven.

"Don't stop," she begged, a second climax inching ever closer. "_Don't_..._stop_..."

His pace quickened, their grip on each other tightening. Ulquiorra felt his heart threatening to burst from his chest, if this hot pressure in his didn't ease, it surely would. Then it happened.

Orihime clung to him like one in fear of death, tightly and unyielding, screaming his name like before. His whole body began to pulse with his climax, his ears ringing and making him unable to hear the strangled grunts that rumbled out of him. Once it ceased, his muscles relaxing, Ulquiorra was nearly overwhelmed with the need to sleep. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Ulquiorra could feel her hands still on him though they were no longer joined, could feel her wiping the sweat from his face.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Hm," he replied, kissing her palm as it passed over his mouth. "Will it...always be so taxing?"

"I don't think so." she almost laughed. "Are you all right?"

"I am...happy." he responded thoughtfully. "And you?"

"I'm happy, too." she nestled against his warm body, feeling a little cool. Sleep was starting to come over her as well. "I love you, Ulquiorra." she said, praying for a response.

"And I, you."

If it was the best she could get, she was satisfied with it, feeling a sense of confidence in her faith as he kissed the top of her head.

"Orihime?"

"Yes?"

"I...do not fully understand what the gesture means, maybe you could it explain it to me later, but," he paused a moment.

"What is it?"

"If you would accept it...seeing as you have already given me yours...I wish to give you my heart."

In her head she giggled, finding his attempt at declaring his devotion endearing. "I accept." she sighed. And she had every intent to keep his heart and hold it close for as long as he would allow, or until the day she died.

Orihime and Ulquiorra would be happy together for a long time coming, their love only growing as the years passed. And life would be full of good fortune, perhaps at the behest of the jade pendant she wore.

_(III)_

He had been investigating the chunk of ice for a few days now, mystified at how it wasn't appearing to melt. Even as it lay in direct line of Hueco Mundo's savage sun it hadn't changed.

For a couple of days now he had been hiding out in the western reaches, among a wide stretching formation of mesas. It was an old haunt of his, a place he favored due to the occasional rain and thunderstorms. He had fashioned a small cave out of one of the shorter rock formations, having used it for a temporary home when he had nowhere else to be, the floor littered with a couple of blankets and pillows. It kept him safe from other Hollows, many of them simply unable to figure out where he could possibly be.

He held the thing in one hand, scrutinizing it. "What could you possibly be?" he wondered aloud. "What's in that hard shell of yours?"

He thought to put it up to the light, some sunlight coming in near the entrance of the burrow. There was a mixture of white and gray and red. He turned it, looked at from top to bottom, and only then found something strange. Something was breaking the outline of the red blob in the middle, something hard angled.

"Funny," he mused. "What's that, I wonder?" Whatever it was, it wasn't solid with the rest of it, some of it sticking out of the clump. He pried and prodded and pulled until it finally dislodged, finding that it resembled the broken edge of a blade. He tossed it away, deciding that it didn't have enough value to demand any more of his attention. It wasn't even a minute later before he could feel water gathering his hands, the ice coming undone. "Ah, there we go. I'm a genius."

As the ice fell away, the thing at its center started to move on its own, a slow and sluggish pulsing to mimic the tiny reiatsu that was still coming from it.

"Well I," he paused in his slight disbelief, "I'll be damned, it's a heart,"

Yes it was, and it had begun beating on its own. The large gash left behind by the broken edge sealed on its own, and steadily the strength of the heart grew. He almost tossed it away, ready to go "eww", but decided against it. Instead he carefully set it down on the floor and took a step back, watching what it would do next.

The ice melted completely, revealing some blood has also been sealed up in it. It puddled beneath the organ and was in time absorbed by it, making it start to grow.

He watched with a mixture of nausea and shock as the heart sprouted new parts, veins and arteries, soft tissue and bone. It was like watching death work in reverse, which was a very troubling thing indeed. Certainly something you don't easily or soon forget. He watched as a mass of organs formed there on the floor and muscles form around them after a skeleton had materialized seemingly out of nowhere, the bones thick and sturdy. Sinew and flesh stretched tight over the bones, giving whatever this thing was meant to be a more human shape. Lungs began working as the newly form brain sparked to life, right after the heart had forced blood through the veins. Skin began to grow, layer by layer, sewing nerves in with it.

Finally came teeth, more like fangs, claws, and dark crimson hair. A hole had formed just above the tailbone, and the chest was heaving for air. One would call it the strangest human they'd ever seen, which would be absolute nonsense considering it wasn't exactly human at all. Muscles tightened so the body would curl into a fetal position, strangled gibberish coming from its throat. It shivered as if freezing cold.

He grabbed one of his blankets, coming back to her just in time to stop her from falling as she tried to stand on uncooperative legs. He gently laid her down, wrapping the blanket around her naked form. Curious golden eyes fell on him as he cradled her head in one arm.

She didn't know where she was, what was going on, why she felt so terrible. Everything was blurred, her ears were ringing and nothing smelled familiar. It was so cold, her joints were aching and her muscles refused to work. Who was this man leaning over her? Even when her vision cleared she was slow to recognize him.

"There, there, sister," he said softly, "I've got you."

She tried to answer him, but the words wouldn't come, her tongue felt so heavy.

"Hush now, don't worry. You're safe with me."

Everything went black after that.

_(IV)_

Unohana found herself restless tonight, unable to feel comfortable in her own bed for some reason or another. She got up, trying not to disturb Sajin who was still fast asleep, and walked out into the living area, eventually making her way to the back porch. She would not be alone.

"Largo, what are you still doing up?" she asked quietly.

"Couldn't sleep, Nana." he sighed.

She shrugged. He'd been like this for the last couple weeks, and it was worrying her. He didn't seem too open to talk about it, only saying "I miss her" as his reason. She knew what he meant, but felt like there was more to tell. Still, she wasn't going to push him.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

"Go ahead." he kicked his feet as they hung over the edge of the porch. He had his head tilted back, looking up at the sea of stars above.

Unohana only watched him a while as she settled beside him, not speaking as she tried to read his face. He hadn't been like this before, he was actually quite happy. Doubly so after she told him that Yamamoto had allowed her to adopt him. He was ecstatic then, but that slowly dwindled into this, and he became unable sleep through the night.

"Do you want some tea?"

"No thanks, don't like it too much."

She knew that, why did she even ask? It was times like this when she doubted her validity as a mother, and that damn near broke her heart.

"Can I do anything for you?"

"Nah." he shook his head, still sounding so distant. "Could you just keep me company?"

"Of course." there was relief in her reply. "You think that could be what's bothering you?"

"Maybe." he had been so accustomed to having Wrath nearby, having that sense of security, that bond. "Nana?"

"Hm?"

"Is there such thing as heaven?"

She was quiet for a moment, thinking it over; the manner in which she answered could make a big difference.

"Well, what do you think?" she decided to take the cautious route.

"I dunno." he looked at the ground a moment. "I want to hope so."

"Then as long as you believe so, there is. That's what I think."

"Hm." he nodded slowly, looking up again. "I just...do you think she went there?"

So that's what this was all about. Unohana smiled, putting an assuring arm around his shoulders.

"Can I show you something?"

"Okay."

She looked up, like him, searching the night sky for a moment. "Look there," and she pointed.

Largo looked and looked, trying to find what she was pointing at. "Where?"

"There, you see those three stars, and those four next to them?"

"Oh yeah, I see it."

"You know what we call that constellation?" she was still smiling as he hung onto every word. "We call that one the Big Bear."

His eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"That's right."

"So she is there," he sounded very glad, almost at ease. "You think she can see me from up that high?"

"I bet she can." she affirmed. "And she'll always be watching out for you, just like before."

Largo smiled, nodding after a moment. "I like the sound of that. Nana?"

"Yes?"

He paused a moment as if he had some reservations about finishing. "Do you think...would it be okay if I called you mom now?" deep down he was in desperate need to have someone to cling to, to replace the guardian figures he was forced to put aside. Nana was there, able and willing to do that for him.

She laughed a little, feeling tears starting to well up. "You didn't even have to ask, nothing would make me happier."

Largo leaned against her shoulder, her arm drawing tighter around him. "Do you think I could start calling Puppy dad?"

"Maybe you should ask _him_ about that. Although I can't see him being able to say no." _The big softy._

"Are the three of us going to be a family?"

If she knew she was going to grilled like this she would have studied before hand. "I'd like to believe so. We're certainly going to try."

He nodded as if in approval. "Are you gonna get married?"

"I'd like to someday, if Sajin agrees." she chuckled. "I will still be content if I do not."

"Uh-huh." he thought to ask why she had wanted him to stay so badly, but he guessed that on his own. In any case, he wasn't going to look into it too much. They were both fulfilling needs for each other, and that was good enough. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Can I have a brother?" he looked at her with all sincerity. "Or a sister would be okay too."

She covered her mouth to quiet her abashed laughter, any louder and someone would wake up.

"We'll see, Largo, we'll see." she finally replied, having calmed a little. "But I think it's time for you to get back to bed, don't you?"

"Maybe," he suddenly yawned, stretching. "Goodnight, Mom." and he kissed on the cheek before stepping back inside.

Unohana lingered for a bit longer before returning to bed herself. Even as carefully as she slid back beneath the covers, Sajin's ear twitched in the darkness.

"Is everything all right?" he grumbled as he rolled over.

"Just fine. He couldn't sleep."

"Again?"

"It's all right now, Sajin, go back to sleep." she settled on her back, her hips turned to the side.

He growled and snorted, turning over again that he might drape an arm across her stomach.

"I heard you laughing." he sighed. "What was so funny?"

Unohana smiled to herself. "Largo said he wanted a brother."

"Hm, did he now? At least he's honest." Sajin licked his nose. "What did you tell him?"

"I said we'll see."

"Good answer. I certainly wouldn't mind trying."

She shook her head. "Good night, Sajin."

"Good night."

Sajin and Retsu would eventually be married, and she would bear him three children; two sons, and a daughter that resembled him almost perfectly. Largo would grow to be a fine young man whom his siblings adored and looked up to. He and Yachiru would be lifelong friends and, somewhere along the line, lovers. Yes, he still missed Ranza, never knowing where his friend had gone, but the separation wasn't so terrible with his new family around him. He couldn't have been happier.

Hanataro had handled his grief very well, much to everyone's surprise. At first he found it trying, spending a lot of time in a foul storm cloud of a mood. But that eventually changed. He would learn to find comfort in his memory of Wrath, what she had taught him. Once he decided the end his self-imposed period of mourning, he chose to celebrate her instead. In an odd example of his new-found courage, he got a tattoo. A banner across his scrawny chest that was the _kanji_ for "courage" in the center, and two bear paws on either side. From then on there wouldn't be another word of him ever cowering or running away in fear ever again. He became a strong, competent Shinigami. And the girl he was seeing? Well, I think you know what I'm about to say, so I'll leave you to it.

Hanataro would never forget about his friend, the gentle giant that helped him find his footing.

I'm sure you're wandering what exactly happened to Ranza and Nel. Well, to be honest, they simply disappeared, fell of the radar so to speak. Although I can assure you of two things; that damned jewel never resurfaced, and the two of them are very, very happy exactly where they are. Gusano did eventually find a new body, making his own way in the world and leaving, without a single regret, a lot of angry women, jealous husbands, and a disabled circus clown in his wake.

Don't bother asking me about the clown. I don't want to go there.

_(V)_

Grimmjow had been living unseen in the mortal world for the last four months, wandering from place to place, nowhere he wanted to be and nowhere to go. Life was passing him by in a sluggish blur, he having lost the concern for the discernment of time and the day-to-day. When the sun was up he would pick a direction and walk, at night, if he were in the city, he'd sit in the alleyways, right next to the hobos and drunkards that couldn't see him. If any of them could, he didn't take any notice to it.

It was like he dropped of the face of the earth and no one appeared to care. Not even Soul Reapers patrolling the areas he stalked through seemed to give the slightest damn he was there. Which wasn't so bad in the end, they didn't bother him and he didn't have to waste his energy killing them. When the isolation became just too much, he would change his shape and skulk about as a cat, finding some transient's lap to keep him warm until he grew bored. Then he would move on, going anywhere and nowhere.

Today it was raining, the wet season in its last days before moving out. The clouds were gray, the sun was blocked out, but the rain was chilling cold so sitting out in it wasn't all that bad. Not that he cared. Grimmjow sat at the foot of some highrise, watching as people unaware walked passed him in their usual hustle and bustle. He watched their shoes, their laces getting wet as they stepped in puddles. It was just a small distraction from the ever present thoughts going through his mind.

No one deserved to be done like that, he would chant in his head. No one. Damn those Shinigami. Why he didn't vaporize the whole god damned place was something he couldn't figure out. That was his style; piss him off, get bumped off. It was that simple...when did things stop being so fucking simple?

They stopped being simple when he stopped playing his games. Somehow he had a feeling he'd regret it, and now he was. He let it get complicated. Grimmjow was beating himself, knowing he shouldn't have gotten attached, he wasn't a guy who normally did that anyhow. But it happened all the same, and it was a bitter taste in his mouth.

_You're a fucking idiot._

And he couldn't argue. Part of him was said he should've let her be, never gotten involved, but another part had a completely different point.

_I should have been straight with her._

It was, more or less, the only thing he could think about with any consistency. It was the only thing he ever regretted. Regret sucked, sucked donkey dick. It filled his mind with thoughts of her and his heart pinched with aches. His fingers curled against his scalp, the edges of his claws cutting. Her words were still with him too, each one like a dagger twisting in his chest.

_"You do not love me."_

Sweet Christ that hurt. He kept hearing it, over and over, just that. The more he listened, the more he realized how much disappointment had been in her voice. He hadn't noticed it then, too busy thinking with his dick. She had wanted a mate, and he just didn't care.

_"...your fuck-toy..."_

Remembering that made him want to vomit.

Half the time he spent trying to rationalize all the seemingly stupid things he did, tried to disguise them as something less. But it was a futile endeavor; there was no covering it up, no sugar coating it. He'd been a total asshole, out only for himself, and she didn't deserve that.

And he would never be able to ask for forgiveness.

Grimmjow tipped his head back, eyes closed as the rain dropped on his face.

_"Just hold my hands, baby."_

He clenched his hands into fists, holding them against his chest. His hands felt empty, idle, and he hated that. Even gripping his sword didn't bring him the same thrill any more. It was just an object to hold. And he couldn't even think about looking at another woman without looking at his hands, dwelling on what he'd rather hold.

"You changed me, baby." he shrugged to himself. "I didn't mean for you to, but you did. And I can't stand it."

"Hey there, fella, you lost?"

Grimmjow opened his eyes a bit, settling them on an old man that was standing over him. Bushy white beard, ratty clothes, rain dripping from the brim of his hat, he looked like a bum.

"You can see me?" he asked.

"Well, with hair like that how could anybody miss you?" the man laughed. "You're not from around here, are ya?"

"No."

"Why don't you go home?" the question was fair enough, voice without a hint of hostility.

"Got no home."

"Ah, I know how you feel." he sat down next to Grimmjow as casually as if he'd known him for years. "Been there, done that. Took me a while to find my place too."

Why was this old codger still here? Was it normal for him to strike up conversation with complete strangers he met on the street?

"So what are you doing out here, old man?"

"Just walking, had a feeling there was someone I was supposed to talk to today." and he looked at Grimmjow with an almost knowing grin.

"Me? I don't even know you." Grimmjow cocked up one eyebrow, convinced this guy was either crazy or high. Maybe both.

"That's all right." the man shook his head. "It's not important."

Grimmjow frowned. Who the hell was this guy?

"You look like you've lost something." the man said after a moment.

The first thing the guy's said that made any sense. "Yeah."

"Maybe you just misplaced it,"

"I wish it were that easy. Nah. It's gone for good."

"You know, nothing's ever really gone. Even when we die, it's just a state of matter, and things change; they don't completely disappear. Maybe you're not looking in the right place?"

"Anyone ever tell you that you're full of crap?"

"Oh sure, my lady does all the time." he laughed, and then he stood up, brushing some droplets from his clothes. "Just think about what I said, fella, all right? Maybe when the rain stops you'll feel up to trying again, retrace your steps?"

"Maybe."

The old man bid him good-bye and began walking in the direction that he came, taking the next corner and round the block. He then dipped into an empty back street, checking for anyone that might be looking. With a wave of his hand a garganta opened up along the wall and he quickly stepped through it. When he came through the other side, someone was there to greet him, never mind it was the middle of the night.

"I was beginning to wonder where you'd gone." Soifon said as she knelt by her low lying dinning table, tea in her hands. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

He smiled, beginning to shed his sodden clothes. All the while his features changed, his beard falling away and the wrinkles in his face disappearing. Color came back to his hair until it was a bright blonde, his eyes a brilliant blue. A mole darkened beside his mouth.

"Got caught up," Dorian said as he came to sit across from her. "Sorry if I worried you, dearest."

Somehow he'd survived, going into hiding so all would think him dead. Soifon was the only one who knew, as she had been the one to spare him. The details as to why are very complicated. One could say she had a spontaneous change of heart. In any case, he wasn't about to tell her what he'd really been up to. It wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Have you been waiting very long, tonight?" he asked.

"A couple of hours, not to mention staying up every other night before now."

"I do apologize." he showed remorse on his pretty face. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Somehow, yes." she grinned. "Though I know how full of it you are."

He chuckled a little. "So you forgive me?"

"I will," she paused, half a grin starting to show. "given enough reason."

He held onto his sly smile as he raised one eyebrow. "My dear, could it be that you're suggesting I do something inappropriate?"

She only sipped her tea, her silence speaking volumes.

"Oh, you are so adorable." he gushed. "So what is it my lady desires? What face would you have me wear?" He realized early on that Soifon had been very fond his ability to change his appearance.

She set down her tea cup, now finished, and stood from the table. "I would have you as you are. If you are willing."

Dorian got over his mild surprise at her answer rather quickly. "I am _always_ willing, dearest one, _always_."

No one would ever find out about them, their trysts remaining their own dirty little secret.

_(–)_

Grimmjow had no idea what he was doing back here, still unable to understand why he listened to that old bastard in the first place. Hueco Mundo was like a cemetery this time of night, so quiet and cold. How anything ever lived in this hell hole was a mystery.

Grimmjow shook his head. This was fucking stupid. There was nothing here for him, he knew that good and well enough. So why did he come? Because the old man's words wouldn't stop pestering him. Well, he figured, he was already here, why not wander around and see what he would run into?

As difficult as it was, the first place he went was the crater. It seemed as good a place to start as any other. He looked it over, finding no genuine change in the beginning, nothing he needed to pay attention to. But that was quickly altered. His vision was good enough, even at night, to see someone had been there before. There were footprints and evidence digging. He followed the track down, and saw how they then headed up the western side, disappearing once it crossed back onto the sand. The rest of the trail had to have been covered by now. Grimmjow circled round , aligning himself with the tracks, deciding to continue the trail to see where it led. He'd never been to the western area of Hueco Mundo before.

For two days and nights he walked, his pace steady, only stopping when he felt the need to sleep.

When the sun came up on the third day he found himself maybe a stone's throw from a collection of mesas. He'd seen things like them in magazines during his stay in the mortal realm, never realizing they would be so big in person. With nothing better to do he decided to give them a once over. Why not?

Without hurry or any real interest he walked amongst them once he had arrive, looking the tall formations up and down. As he walked he kicked something half buried in the sand. When he looked down he saw a few bones, stripped clean and in a scattered sort of pile. It lay at the root of one of the mesas. He chanced to look up, curious as to where the remains may have come from. He spotted the cave near the top, saw faint ribbons of smoke curling out of the entrance. Was someone up there, someone actually living out here?

Only one way to know for sure.

With a few frustrated curses, mostly directed towards himself, he put his claws to the stone and started to climb. Yeah, he could have jumped, easily reaching his destination in one fell swoop, but this was more time consuming. All he had was time after all.

Grimmjow allowed himself to dangle from the bottom lip of the cave, just barely lifting himself up so he could get a better look of what was there before committing himself to going inside. There were more remains up here, more bits and pieces of Hollow that were unfortunate enough. Clearly there was something alive up here because this was what remained of its feeding. There looked to be the charred leftovers of a night time fire, a few embers still orange among the ashes.

As quietly as he could manage he pulled himself up, a cautionary hand at the hilt of sword as he looked around. It all came together as a sort of makeshift den. Somehow something about it felt...smelled familiar. Something stirred under the pile of blankets in the corner, Grimmjow drew his sword out of instinct.

He realized that old man had to be more than he was letting on. He had to have known what he was going to do, where he'd go. Was this some sort of trap?

"Brother, I am not hungry," came a voice from beneath the blankets. "Let me sleep."

Grimmjow felt his heart yank in his chest. There was no mistaking that, what he'd just hear. He hurriedly sheathed his sword, careless of almost cutting himself in process. With heavy feet he stepped across the floor of the den. He knelt down, hand shaking as she reached for the hem of the covering. Gently he pulled it back, revealing a mess of long red hair. His heart began beating fast as he gripped a strand of it, the recollection of its texture almost painful. This just couldn't be, he even shook his head; this had to be some cruel trick. Would he wake up in a minute or two, covered in a chilled sweat and gasping for breath?

No, he wouldn't.

His hand found a hard shoulder and he pulled, turning the sleeping someone over that he could see their face.

"I call bullshit," he whispered, simply unable to grasp what his eyes were seeing right in front of him.

She opened her eyes a little, her vision still askew with sleep. She blinked, seeing something coming into focus. She sniffed the air, not finding Dorian there but someone else. Pulling the blanket higher she attempted to sit up, her muscles still rather weak. She rubbed her eyes, finally able to see.

"You're not Dorian. Where is he?"

Grimmjow couldn't speak, resisting the urge to shake his head. She looked different, but only so much. The mask fragment had changed again, now manifesting as fangs aligned in a row across her hairline, pointing downward over her forehead. Otherwise she was exactly the same. He couldn't forget those eyes.

"I don't know." he finally got his tongue moving. "He wasn't here when I came in." he thought Dorian was long since dead. "Don't you...recognize me?"

Her eyes narrowed on him, her brow tightening as she leaned forward slightly. She took a sniff of him, becoming much more curious.

"Wait," she put her clawed hand to her head. Something about him was familiar, a memory teasing to be known again. "Kitty," she said absently. "That name,"

His heart was still pounding, eager for her to put the pieces back together. Would she even be able to? Or had she completely forgotten him?

Still looking at her fellow Arrancar a bit sideways, she reached up and touched his face, running her fingers over the bone jaw and teeth. Then she twined his hair, tugging it a little before touching her fingertips to his lips.

"Those eyes," she mentioned as he looked back at her, still waiting. "Grimmjow."

His heart shot into his throat when her eyes got big suddenly and she threw herself at him.

"Grimmjow!" the memories were coming back, all the polaroids sorting into their proper places.

Fiera's scent filled him, ripping apart his insides and mending them at the same time. His arms circled her tightly.

For a moment he just held her, reassuring himself that she was really there. "Fiera," he said at last, his throat a little tight. "How did this happen?"

"I do not really know." she replied. "Somehow...a part of me survived the blast. I cannot explain how."

"I don't care about that right now," he confessed, burying his face in her hair. "I can't believe your really here."

"I am. You came to find me?"

"Said I would, didn't I?" he thought back to his promise back in Las Noches. He said he would come back for her, and now he had. "God, I'm so sorry."

She leaned away from him, her hands on his shoulders. "What is the matter?"

Grimmjow shook his head, letting it eventually settle on her naked chest. "I treated you like shit."

"I remember." she smiled although he couldn't see it. Then she tipped his head up. "But I forgive you."

He was confused at first. Fiera was being understanding and somewhat...chipper. Shouldn't she be brooding and indecisive? What had happened? Maybe now that so little of her mask remained, there was only so much of the bear left as well, or at the very least on even standing with the rest of her? This only bothered Grimmjow for a brief moment, realizing he was a lucky mother fucker to get her back at all.

"Grimmjow?" she stroked his hair back, finding the motion soothing. She was starting to feel a bit sleepy again.

"Yeah?"

"Is it over? The fighting?"

Grimmjow smiled and kissed her shoulder. "It's over, baby. Nothing else for us to be worrying about."

"Good." she stifled a yawn. "I am still weak."

"That's okay," His voice had leveled out, no longer filled with skepticism and ill-at-ease. "I can look after you now."

"Will you?"

"If you'll let me."

"I would like that." she sighed, leaning away from him again. "I want to lie down."

Grimmjow released his possessive hold, helping her with the blanket as she settled in. He crossed his legs, sitting close by so she could lay her head in his vacant lap.

"When did you make up your mind?" she asked after a quiet moment.

"Huh? About what?"

"About us?"

"Oh." he couldn't resist the urge to touch her hair as he thought it over. "When I was convinced you were gone. Stupid me, I have a bad habit of wanting things I can't have." he let his head rest on his other hand, the elbow on his knee. "Twenty-twenty hindsight I guess."

"Still...I am glad you came."

"Almost didn't. Wasn't sure what I was walking into. But I'm glad too." he found it in him to smile. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, still marveling at how she wasn't an illusion.

"Will we stay here?"

He thought a moment. "Nah. Once you're strong enough, we're getting the hell outta this place."

"Where will we go?" she reached up and took his hand, holding it like a child with a security blanket.

"Dunno. We'll just go until we find a place," it was the best he could come up with on such short notice. "someplace we can call home. Just for us."

Fiera looked up at him. "Just us?"

"Yeah. Is that okay with you?"

"I am not going to argue." she shook her head, smiling.

He let out a breath as if in relief. You'd think he had expected her to say no. "Now that I think about, there are places in the mortal world full of nothing but trees. Trees and rivers for miles around, and its almost always warm. Hardly any people either."

"I like the sound of that." she purred.

"You'd want to share that with me, baby? After all the shit I made you put up with?"

"Shit is just a part of life, Grimmjow. Just as everything else. To blame that all on you would be stupid."

Grimmjow laughed. She had a good point. "Fiera?"

"Hm?" she was sounding ready to fall asleep at any minute.

"You know I'm a total douche bag, right?"

"I am not going to ask what that is, but I will guess it is a bad thing...so yes."

"But I'm not a liar."

"No. At the very least you have always been straight with me."

"Then it's safe to say you would believe me if I said I had a really tough time without you, right?"

She was quiet, not entirely sure how she should react to that.

"I'd even been willing to go so far as to say...I love you." he'd never said that to anybody. The closest he ever came was "I love your tits", or...well, you could take a blind guess and still be right.

Fiera turned onto her stomach and lifted herself up on her hands, her eyes level with and boring holes right through him. It was actually kind of scary when she did that.

"You mean it?"

He smirked, "With every fiber of my sadistic, perverted heart." which was actually saying quite a bit.

"You want me to stay with you?" she asked, demanding reassurance of his devotion.

"For as long as you'll tolerate me." he smiled big, all his teeth showing. "Come on, it'll be great. Just you and me, baby."

Fiera leaned closer, and closer, Grimmjow threatening to fall back as his brows lifted.

"Very well." and she gave him a kiss that tasted of sweet, sweet ginger in his mouth. She still lingered close to him even after they parted. "Say it again." she whispered. "Please."

"I love you, Fiera." he obliged, his fingers curling along the back of her neck in a tender caress.

She smiled against his lips as he drew her near again. Finally she felt whole, like she had a place to belong where she was safe, and it was with him. Anywhere could be home so long as she was near him.

"I love you, Grimmjow."

They would leave Hueco Mundo in the following weeks, disappearing into the deep wilds of the mortal realm. They would settle among a chain of jungle islands in the south pacific, hopping from one small landmass to the other as it suited them. They were happy there, happy together, content among the other wildlife that lived beside them. They couldn't have asked for more.

(–)

We've followed many kinds of people on this journey, although the underlying theme has been the condemnation and redemption of both good and evil. We've seen the long awaited rescue of the damned, and the toppling of the supposedly pure. But if I had to be completely honest, the genuine nature of this journey was love, though not always conventional or easily accepted.

So regardless of whether you're a sinner, or see yourself a saint, or maybe you're still trying to figure that out, we're all human in some manner, and we all need love.

Author's Note: There, done, finito. I hope the readers have enjoyed this, maybe even fallen in love with some of my characters along the way. I certainly hope at least small bit of this will be memorable for you. Even though I feel like this last chapter came up a little short and cheesy, I am still proud to say this is the end. I would like to extend a very grateful thank you to "ThatBanana" for all of your reviews and following the story so closely. You're feed back was often my inspiration. In no small part, I finished this for you.

Be sure to look out for my next fic coming within the next year or so. It will be Final Fantasy XIII, and the working title is "Blood Tithe". Also, you can find my novels at fictionpress, under the pen name "luckyfirerabbit". And be sure to check out artwork from this fic and others at .com

Thank you all, and good night.


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